


As the Ocean Loves the Salt

by Piplover



Category: The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Injury Recovery, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pining, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piplover/pseuds/Piplover
Summary: Sometimes we are too blind to see what is standing before us.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work took on a life of it's own. I'll be posting once a week as I'm still editing and tweaking. Any mistakes are my own. 
> 
> As a soundtrack, I highly recommend listening to Lewis Capaldi's "Someone I Loved" on repeat.

Esca was talking to the girl again. The one who sold the British trinkets and protection charms, with the pretty red hair and crooked smile.

Marcus watched from under his lashes, his head bowed as he attempted to pick out the best leather from the stall next to hers.

Esca always spoke with her when they visited the market, whether their business took them near her booth or not. The past few visits, he had taken her flowers.

Marcus turned his back to their flirting, desperately trying to find something to take his mind off the way his heart ached in his chest and his stomach twisted.

Esca laughed behind him, light and easy, and Marcus found himself unable to stand there a moment longer. He knew from past experience that Esca would be a while and he had no desire to watch the courtship in progress.

He had known this day would come, deep in his heart. The life the two of them had carved out for themselves on their little farm was too good to last. Esca was a man, after all, with all the wants and desires of a healthy male. Of course he would one day want a wife and family.

And Marcus…

Marcus was a lamed ex-soldier who could barely stand some days, with perverted wants in his heart and no desire for a wife or children. Even as a youth, he had held little want for women or their company, preferring the hard bodies and masculine charms of the men he served with.

The Gods had been cruel in their kindness when they had brought Esca into his life. He had never been closer to another, and yet in some ways, so very far apart. He loved everything about Esca, from his smaller stature to his fiery spirit, how the other man challenged him and forced him to reconsider things which had been set as stone in his heart.

But Esca did not desire him, not as Marcus desired, and he had thought he could live with that, so long as he was able to be near him. Now Marcus realized how foolish he had been, and his heart pained him again.

Cupid must be using him for target practice this day, he decided, and gave up on looking at the leather. He slowly made his way down the row of stalls, nearly to the end of the street, to where a tall, dark skinned woman sold well-crafted and sturdy knives. He had purchased from her before, and always found her solemn, grave face comforting. She let her wares speak for themselves and did not attempt to trick her customers into buying.

“Roman,” she greeted, her voice deep and lilted, eyes glinting in recognition as he approached. Her shaved head bowed once as he neared.

“Hail,” Marcus replied, nodding back.

The woman regarded him for a moment, her eyes seeming to penetrate to the very depths of his soul, and something in her face seemed to soften.

“What do you seek today?” she asked, and though her words were blunt, there was kindness in her tone.

“A new knife for whittling. Mine unfortunately met a terrible end,” Marcus admitted, smiling ruefully as he recalled how the blade had snapped whilst carving the small figurine he planned to give his uncle.

“Poor knife,” she sighed, her lips turning slightly into a small smile, the first she had ever gifted Marcus with. “You are in luck, I think I have what you may need.”

She bent down, retrieving from under her table a plain wooden box. When she opened it, several small knives glinted up at him, the sheen on their blades attesting to their sharpness.

“They are beautiful,” Marcus murmured, bending closer to inspect them.

The blades curved elegantly, wood handles polished smooth. Marcus lifted one, testing the shape of it in his palm, and felt a rightness with its weight and balance.

“How much?” he asked, examining it for any defects, but the blade looked true.

“Ten denarii,” she answered, and Marcus nodded. It was more than he would have liked, but a good price.

He gave her the coins, their fingers touching briefly as he did so, and he was startled to realize it was the first time he had touched another besides Esca in more than a month. He tucked the thought away for later as he accepted the sheath and nodded at the fair trade.

He placed the new knife on his belt, liking the feel of its weight, and started to head back to Esca. Hopefully he would be ready to leave now, as Marcus’ leg was starting to ache.

He was several stalls away from the trinket seller when he spotted the two of them, standing side by side as they admired something at her booth, their heads bent close.  
He watched them for a moment, undecided on what to do, when a loud shout and several screams off to his left had him turning, hand reaching automatically for his new knife.

A cart filled with produce was bearing down the center of the market, knocking into stalls and sending people screaming as they scrambled out of the way.

The cart was heading directly towards Esca.

The horses were scared, eyes rolling as they screamed and careened down the street. Marcus had faced such creatures before, in battle, and knew that to get in their way was certain death.

But Esca was trapped between the stalls and the horses, with little room to move out of the way.

He looked to his friend and saw him trying to shield the girl, pressing her as far back against the booth as he could, his body between her and the oncoming danger. Both would be killed unless something was done.

People were starting to panic, running past him and creating an even larger danger of being trampled or hurt, and on instinct he looked around for some kind of weapon. His knife would be no use in this situation.

The stall next to him collapsed as several men ran into it, trying to get out of the way, and he was knocked off balance to his knees by one of them as they scattered. The cart was almost upon them when he grabbed a long wooden pole, probably one of the booth supports, and managed to regain his feet.

Hoping his aim was as true as it had once been, he threw the pole as he would a spear, watching as it jammed the wheel and turned the cart from its course.

For a moment, Marcus was once more standing in Isca Dumnoniorum, Cradock’s lifeless body flying from the chariot as it aimed right for him.

He closed his eyes and breathed out, waiting for the pain he knew was coming as the cart bore down on him. Someone screamed his name, and suddenly he was standing alone as those around him scrambled away from the inevitable.

_“So this is how I die,”_ he thought, for the second time in his life.

Agony, then blackness enveloped him.

***

He didn’t hurt. This was the first thing he knew as he became aware. He felt warm, and safe, and nothing, not even his leg, hurt.

He opened his eyes, confused, and found himself standing in a golden field, wheat thick and heavy on the stalk, reaching nearly to his waist. Sunlight streamed down around him, and the air was filled with the sounds of birds.

There was a large house off in the distance, a blend of Roman and British that reminded him of his and Esca’s own home, and for a moment there was a pang of loss in his chest.

_ Esca_.

His friend would surely mourn him, but Marcus had already made certain that if anything befell him Esca would be taken care of, the land and the farm going to him in his will. Perhaps Esca would marry the trinket girl, and the house that Marcus had helped build would be filled with the sound of laughter and children.

Pushing the thought aside, for there was nothing he could do now, Marcus made his way towards the house in the distance, and in no time came to the door. He raised his hand to knock but it swung open before he could touch hand to wood.

“Come in, son. Let me take a look at you,” a voice called, deep and familiar. Marcus’ heart gave another lurch.

He made his way inside, surprised at how much light filled the room, and saw his father standing beside a laden table, looking the same as he had last seen him when he was but a young boy.

“Father?” Marcus asked, taking a hesitant step towards the other man, who held his arms open in welcome.

Marcus found himself embraced, warm arms wrapping around him and holding him close to a broad chest. His father had seemed a giant when he was young, but Marcus realized that as an adult, he was almost of a height with him. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, and he felt a hand smooth over his hair.

“Hello, son,” his father said softly, continuing to stroke his hair, as he had done when Marcus was small.

Marcus held his father tighter, letting the tears fall down his cheek, weeping for all that he had lost and all that would never be.

They held each other for a very long time, and only after Marcus had control of himself again did his father release him, stepping back and letting his eyes sweep over Marcus’ form.  
Marcus did the same for his father, drinking in the clean-shaven face he had nearly forgotten, the strong hands which had carved the eagle he had held close to his breast for so long. The simple white tunic and sandals his father wore, and which Marcus realized he wore as well.

“What happens now?” Marcus asked, looking around himself for the first time since entering the house, taking in the smooth walls and clean floor, the table laden with food and the window which seemed to allow endless light.

“Now,” Flavius Aquila said, taking a step back, “We must talk.”

“Flavius! I want to see the lad who’s stolen my boy’s heart!”

The new voice came from outside, light and with a British accent that sounded so like Esca for a moment Marcus wondered if the runaway cart had taken him, as well. But then the words  
registered, and Marcus had only a moment to take in their meaning before a man entered.

He was taller than Esca, though he had his slight, wiry build, and tattoos snaked down his arms and disappeared under his bright red tunic. His beard was full, but short, the red curls adding thickness to his pointed face, and his hair fell to his shoulders in soft waves.

Esca looked very much like him, and for several long minutes Marcus and the other man eyed each other.

“I see you have no patience, as always,” Flavius said dryly, moving to sit at the table. “Marcus, this is -”

“Cunoval, Clan Chieftain of the Brigantes, lord of five hundred spears. Father to Esca,” Cunoval finished for him, moving to stand in front of Marcus and eye him as though he were a prize horse.

He was nearly the same height as Marcus, but he seemed much larger, as though he were looming over the Roman.

“I can see why my son has given his heart to you,” Cunoval said softly, and some of the sternness left his face.

“I don’t - I think you must be mistaken,” Marcus said, trying to understand. Cunoval could not possibly mean what his words implied. Esca was courting a woman!

“You think I do not know my own son’s heart?” Cunoval demanded, and here was Esca’s quick temper, the sudden shift from gentle to harsh making Marcus dizzy.

“Cunoval,” Flavius warned, and though his tone was mild there was no mistaking the rebuke.

Esca’s father wiped a hand down his face, then stared at Marcus for a moment before motioning for him to sit.

“I think there are things you need to know, lad, before you go back,” he finally said.

“Go back?” Marcus asked, looking between the two men as his confusion grew. “Am I not dead?”

“No,” Flavius answered, at the same time as Cunoval said, “Nearly, but not quite.”

“You’re in the In Between, son,” Flavius explained, motioning for Marcus to join him on the bench. “Not dead, yet, but very near it.”

“You’re a stubborn one, I’ll give you that!” Cunoval agreed cheerfully, sitting opposite from them. “I can see why Esca likes you, he always did like the difficult ones.”

“Sir, Esca does not love me, not that way!” Marcus protested. “In fact, he has been courting a woman at the market, he would have -”

“That silly little girl?” Cunoval snapped, grimacing as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. “Oh, she’s pretty enough, but her head’s as empty as a bird’s nest in winter! Esca might like the sight of her, but she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him. He’s a smart lad, and spirited as well. Soft and helpless bores him easily, always has. When he was younger he always went after the ones who could challenge him.”

Cunoval eyed Marcus a moment, tilting his head. “His first love was Caratacus, one of my finest warriors. Much older than him, and a fierce fighter. Esca followed him about like a puppy until Caratacus married, and then he turned his eye to Luigsech, another of my warriors, and her much more receptive to him.”

Cunoval smiled warmly in remembrance.

“He - he never speaks of his past,” Marcus said softly, looking at the table and not his friend’s father.

“He’s told you more than he has any other.”

A hand, slim and calloused and pale as milk, touched Marcus’ jaw, bringing his face up so their eyes met. Cunoval’s gaze, grey and hard like the sword he once wielded, bore into him.

“The past is past. Your father and I were warriors, and each of us died fighting for what we believed and loved. But spilled blood is spilled blood, whether British or Roman, and our souls are at rest now.”

“Yes, Cunoval and I have spent many a night drinking as we watch over you two,” Flavius added, smirking just a bit at Marcus’ expression.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Marcus complained, looking from one man to the other.

“It’s not for you to understand, Marcus,” Flavius said softly, and squeezed his shoulder tightly before letting him go. “But, there are certain things you must know before you go back.”

“How are you so certain I will go back?” Marcus demanded, sudden anger rising hot within him at the presumption. “You said yourselves I’m not dead, but near it. Why do you think I will survive these wounds? For what? To be a lamed beggar, feeding on whatever scraps I can manage? I will not have Esca tethered to me again, I would rather die than impose myself on him like that!”

Marcus expected the men to take insult at his tone, wanted them to argue with him, to vent his frustrations and fears at them. But neither man reacted as he had expected.

Flavius simply stared at him fondly, and Cunoval let out a mighty laugh.

“Oh, you’re too stubborn to die,” Cunoval said happily, as though there was no doubt in his mind, and pointed his finger at him. “You survived a chariot dropping on you and pulled yourself back into fighting shape after wounds that would have killed a lesser man. And don’t you dare presume to think Esca would help you out of obligation. That boy loves you as fiercely as he has loved anything or anyone.”

“You keep saying that, yet he has given no indication that he loves me as anything other than a brother!” Marcus protested, standing in his agitation. “I tell you, he is nearly ready to propose to that trinket girl!”

“Because you’ve given him no sign he should do otherwise!” Cunoval roared, also standing. He slapped the table with both hands in his frustration. “By all the Gods, Flavius, I thought my son was stubborn, but yours has him beat! Gods help the goat that tries to butt heads with him!”

Flavius sighed, then rose as well, so all three men were stood around the table, and turned to Marcus with a stern expression.

“You have never been a coward, Marcus.” His father’s voice had lost whatever humor he may have had, his face as serious as Marcus could ever remember it being. “Face this battle as you have everything else in your life: with honor and kindness. Tell Esca how you feel, let him make up his own mind. You trust him with your life, now trust him with your heart.”

The room suddenly seemed to grow dim, as though a shadow had passed over the sun outside.

“It’s almost time,” Cunoval said, gazing out the window. “Take that stubbornness and put it to good use. Fight, Marcus, for you and my son. Show him why he loves you once more.”

“You don’t know what you ask,” Marcus whispered, his chest aching as though a great weight was upon him, stealing his breath.

“I know.” Cunoval’s voice was grave, and Marcus remembered that this man had slit his wife’s throat to spare her the horrors of defeat by Rome. “Go back, Marcus, and love my son. Love him as the ocean loves the salt.”

“It’s time,” Flavius murmured, and suddenly there was a great, wrenching pain in his side, as though a sword had been thrust through him.

“Be stubborn, Marcus,” Cunoval prompted, and raised a hand in farewell as the world blurred and turned to black once more.


	2. Chapter 2

He hurt all over, a dark, piercing pain that pulsed with his heart, ebbing and flowing like a wave. His head ached, and every breath crackled and burned, his leg a dull throbbing that at least was familiar. 

His thoughts were sluggish and muddled, and it took him several minutes to realize the darkness was because his eyes were closed. When he managed to work them open he found himself staring at a familiar ceiling. 

He was in his room at his uncle’s villa.

For a moment he wondered if he had merely dreamed of Esca and the life they had lived together, if the Eagle was still lost and his family’s honor still tarnished. But then a familiar face appeared above him, and he found himself smiling up at Esca despite his pain. 

His friend looked horrible. His eyes were bruised with dark shadows, and his beard, usually a handsome scruff after a few days, was wild and scraggly, as though he had not shaved in over a week or more. Marcus tried to raise a hand to touch it, staring at the facial hair stupidly, but was halted by a sharp pain in his shoulder. 

“Shhh, don’t move,” Esca whispered, his voice holding a desperate edge. “Please, just lie still, you’ve been gravely hurt and need to rest.”

A cup of water was held to his lips and he drank the cool liquid gratefully, his tongue feeling thick and dry in his mouth. 

“What happened?” Marcus managed to ask once the cup was removed, licking his lips and tasting blood from the cracked flesh. 

“You had a cart fall on you,” Esca said, and for a moment the shade of a smile passed his lips. “You need to stop making a habit of that,” he admonished. The smile vanished as quickly as it had come. “You were brought to your uncle’s, where better help could be had. The surgeon was uncertain you would survive, but I knew you were too stubborn to die.”

Something about the words sounded familiar, but the thought slipped away before it could find purchase. 

“How bad?” Marcus asked, and already he felt his eyes beginning to droop in weariness. 

“Bad,” Esca said grimly. He touched his fingers very gently to Marcus’ brow, light as a butterfly. “You have broken your left arm, and dislocated your shoulder. You’ve several broken ribs, and were bleeding inside. You’ve been pissing red.”

Marcus grimaced, knowing exactly how grave the situation was. Men who bled into their bellies and other organs rarely survived. 

“You must rest now,” Esca ordered, and held the refilled cup back to Marcus’ lips. “Rest and get your strength back.”

Marcus drank the foul medicine and let himself drift off, strange dreams following him down. 

***

Marcus healed slowly, though he did heal. His ribs mended, and the deep purple bruising which had marred his stomach and back slowly faded. When he used the chamber pot his piss was no longer red, and he found himself able to stay awake for longer and longer periods. 

It was at least a month before he felt well enough to venture out of his bedroom, the warmth of summer reluctantly giving way to the first hints of autumn. 

“What about the horses? And the farm?” he had asked, a week after his first awakening, when he was coherent enough to think of such things. The market was a half-day away from their farm, they were not meant to be gone overnight let alone two weeks. 

“Your uncle has sent an overseer to watch over the farm and the horses. The barley was already planted and doing well when you were injured, and there have been no issues reported. The horses are doing fine, stop worrying,” Esca admonished, pushing yet another cup of medicine to his lips. “Save your energy for healing.”

Marcus had let himself rest and heal, doing as the surgeon and herb-woman commanded, letting Esca tend to him despite him no longer being a slave. He had only brought it up once, that it wasn’t Esca’s duty to do such things, and he had feared for a moment that Esca would strike him, so angry had he become. 

“I am your friend. Your brother!” Esca had snapped, his scowl frightening. “It is an honor to help you!”

Esca had left then, stomping out of the room for the first time in nearly three weeks, and had not returned until well after dinner, still scowling but calmer than he had been. He had bathed and shaved in his time away, and wore fresh tunic and braccae. He had never looked so beautiful, or so untouchable.

Marcus, feverish and scared he had insulted his friend, albeit unwittingly, babbled at him, begging him for forgiveness.

“I am sorry, Esca, so sorry! Please do not leave me, never leave me!” he had begged.

“Hush now,” Esca had whispered, sitting on the side of the bed and touching gentle fingers to Marcus’ brow, scowling at the heat. “Hush, all is well. What is this talk of my leaving? You know I would never leave you, never. Rest now.”

Marcus had nearly wept in relief, and allowed himself to be soothed into a fitful, feverish sleep. 

Now, over a week since that argument, Marcus stood in the courtyard and gazed at the clear morning sky, breathing as deeply as he dared with ribs that were still tender of the cool air. 

Beside him, as always, was Esca, watching him as a mother watches their child take their first steps, his hand firmly wrapped around Marcus’ arm to keep him steady. 

“We should consider heading back soon,” Marcus said, eyeing the leaves on the trees and their browning edges. 

“We will stay as long as the surgeon wants us to stay,” Esca said firmly, gently tugging Marcus toward a stone bench. 

“I am stronger now,” Marcus protested even as he sank gratefully down onto the bench, breathing heavily. 

“Yes, stronger. That does not mean you can sit a horse all day for several days,” Esca admonished. “Do you not understand, Marcus? You very nearly died! For a week we thought you would! You must give yourself time to recover.”

“I just - I miss our home,” Marcus murmured, looking at Esca pleadingly. “I love my uncle, but I miss our farm!”

Esca finally smiled, and gently cupped Marcus cheek with his hand. “We will go back when you are well enough, and the farm will be there waiting for us. Now, Stephanos told me something interesting yesterday, I think you will enjoy this.”

Marcus allowed himself to be distracted by Esca’s story, and they spoke no more that day of returning. 

***

Three weeks later the surgeon deemed Marcus well enough to sit a horse and ride for the three days it would take to return to their farm. The herb-woman pressed several packets of herbs into Esca’s hands and whispered instructions to him as he nodded, both of them glaring at Marcus, as though daring him to question them. 

Marcus had learned that lesson early on, and turned his back to them to thank his uncle and bid him farewell. 

“I love you, dear boy, truly. You do not need to hurt yourself in order to visit!” His uncle’s voice was teasing, but his eyes were surrounded by more wrinkles and shadowed still. 

“I promise, next visit I will be fit and healthy!” Marcus agreed, and clasped his uncle to him in a tight hug, thinking of his father as he held him close. “Take care of yourself, Uncle, and we should be back for Saturnalia.”

“I look forward to it,” Uncle Aquila agreed, and finally released him. 

When they left the villa, the sun was just beginning to shine upon the fields and the brightly colored leaves of the trees. 

***

The first day of travel passed quickly, and though they had taken a slow and steady pace, Marcus felt wearied and bruised when they spotted an inn for the night. There was still a touch of sun in the sky when they steered their horses into the small stable attached to the inn, but when Marcus dismounted he found the world rocked and swayed around him. 

He clutched the saddle for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass, and Esca was by his side immediately, his dirt stained face clearly displaying his displeasure. 

“I am well,” Marcus assured him, and slowly released the saddle to stand up straight. “But I am looking forward to laying down.”

Esca nodded and quickly retrieved their bags from the horses, easily side-stepping Marcus’ grab for his own bag and carrying both into the inn. Marcus followed, resigned to Esca’s hovering. 

The innkeeper was cheerful, if a bit distracted, the inn full of travelers and noise. There was a room available with a single bed, but, as the innkeeper assured them, “It could easily fit two such lads as yourselves!”

“Thank you,” Marcus murmured, handed over the money, and made his way towards the stairs, feeling more drained than he wanted to admit. 

He made his slow way to their room, Esca right behind him, and nearly collapsed onto the bed as a great fatigue washed over him. 

“I think I will just sleep now,” Marcus mumbled, trying to find the energy to remove his shoes and at least take a wet cloth to his face to wipe away the grime of the road. 

“Rest a bit, I’ll bring us something to eat,” Esca said, and without being asked, removed Marcus’ shoes and placed them at the foot of the bed. 

He helped Marcus sit up to remove his braccae and tunic, then left the room with a murmur that Marcus couldn’t quite catch. He returned what seemed only a moment later, a bucket of water and several rags with him. 

He set about wiping down Marcus’ body with brisk efficiency, as gentle as a lover, yet with a detached frown, as though he were polishing a tray. Marcus watched him through hooded eyes, trying to stay awake despite his weariness. 

“You have such wonderful hands,” he whispered, the words leaving his mouth without conscious thought. 

Esca started, the cloth dropping to land with a wet splat on the floor, and stared at Marcus with wide eyes. 

“I have always thought so,” Marcus added, and smiled at Esca’s expression. “They are warrior’s hands, and yet I wonder sometimes…”

Marcus trailed off as his eyes closed, letting out a contented sigh. 

“You are very tired,” Esca said softly, moving to push a lock of hair from Marcus’ forehead. “Get some rest and I’ll have some food for you shortly.”

Marcus hummed his acknowledgement and drifted off to sleep. 

***

The second day of travel passed equally swiftly, though Marcus found himself stiff and sore in the morning from the previous day’s exertions. Esca had rubbed his legs and back gently before they descended for their breakfast, and both ate heartily of the bread and cheese the innkeeper provided before heading out.

Their pace was swift on the well maintained roads, and before nightfall they found another inn. This time Esca demanded Marcus accompany him to dinner, as he had been too tired the night before to do more than sip a few mouthfuls of the soup Esca had procured for him. 

Now, Esca watched him eat the roasted chicken with a small smile on his lips, the look of a man satisfied with himself, and Marcus found himself returning the grin. 

When they retired for the night, once again sharing a bed, the two of them slept deeply, and when he woke the next morning Marcus found himself entwined in Esca’s arms. He allowed himself a moment to relish the sensation, Esca’s head tucked under his chin and one leg thrown over his own. The two of them could not have been closer if they had been lovers. 

When Esca finally stirred, he had mumbled something about mornings and slowly disentangled himself, showing no discomfort at having been so intimate in his sleep, and for the first time Marcus felt something like hope stir in his breast.


	3. Chapter 3

They reached their farm just as the first stars were appearing, both of them eager to see their home and sleep in their own beds. It had been just over two months since they had left for what was supposed to be a simple day trip, and both were happy to see the familiar walls of their house. 

“Aquila!” a voice yelled as they made their way down the narrow path which led to their stables. 

Marcus lifted his eyes to see a tall, slender figure making its way towards them. The overseer, Titus Maximus, waved his hand in greeting as the two approached.

“Maximus,” Marcus greeted, reaching down to clasp arms with the man.

His uncle had recommended him to oversee the farm the first time they had ventured away, and for the past three years they had hired him when they wished to travel. Marcus was filled with relief that it was he who had taken care of their farm in their absence. 

“By the Gods it is good to see you,” Maximus said, his eyes taking in Marcus hunched form. “You look too thin, Aquila. Esca, you must feed him up for the winter!”

Esca laughed, dismounting easily and reaching over to clasp hands with the man himself. 

“I plan to,” Esca promised, and laid a proprietary hand on Marcus’ leg. “Let us get the horses taken care of and then some dinner. “

Maximus nodded, taking their bags and waving away Marcus’ attempt to help, leaving the two men to see to the horses and settle them for the evening. Marcus spent several minutes reacquainting himself with their three mares, leaving Esca the stud to deal with, as the horse had taken an instant dislike to Marcus, much to Esca’s amusement. 

Soon enough, however, both of their stomachs demanded attention, and they left the horses with an apple each to head inside, greeted by the smell of roast meat and fresh bread. 

“Your uncle sent a messenger a week ago, letting me know you would be arriving soon,” Maximus explained as he dished out supper. “I’ve made sure there is plenty in your larder, and there have been no issues with the horses or the harvest.”

“Thank you, Maximus,” Marcus said sincerely, taking the bowl offered and inhaling the rich scent deeply. 

“The harvest is done, then?” Esca asked in surprise.

“Yes, it went well, no troubles. Your neighbors were eager to help, after they heard what had happened. Everything has been seen to, though I’ll show you the stores tomorrow, once the sun has come up. I’ll take my leave after, if you don’t mind. It has been a goodly while since I saw my Octavia, and you two will probably be wanting a bit of quiet,” Maximus said. 

“You have lightened my heart considerably,” Marcus said, smiling as he started to eat. 

“Both our hearts!” Esca agreed.

Maximus bowed his head in acceptance of their thanks and the meal continued in silence, all of them weary from days of work and travel. After, Marcus and Esca washed the bowls and plates while Maximus retired to Esca’s room.

“You should prepare for bed,” Esca said as the last dish was dried and placed back on the shelf. “I’ll make your medicine while you wash.”

Marcus sighed in exasperation but offered no fight, knowing it would be useless. Esca could be as set as stone when he made a decision. 

Marcus took his time retrieving the water from their well and then washing as thoroughly as he could, the fire from their hearth a pleasant sensation against the cold of the water. Already he was missing his uncle’s baths, and thought longingly of hot water and a bench to relax on. 

After he was as clean as he could make himself he fetched another bucket of clean water for Esca and retreated to his bedroom, already stripped down to his subligacula, and finally laid his head down on his own pillow. 

The sheets smelled of wood smoke and the lavender oil his uncle often gifted him, and the furs were warm against the chill air. He was nearly asleep by the time Esca coaxed him into drinking the warm, bitter potion from the herb-woman. When Esca crawled into the bed next to him, he managed a mumbled good night before drifting off. 

***

The next day dawned crisp and chill, Esca sliding out of the covers as the sun rose and letting the cold air penetrate their little haven of warmth. 

“Sleep a bit longer,” Esca whispered as Marcus burrowed further under the blankets, only his hair showing above. 

“I can get up,” Marcus protested, but made no move to do so, much to Esca’s amusement. 

He drifted back to sleep before Esca could reply, and woke again only after the sun was high in the sky. He dressed quickly, relishing the feel of a clean tunic and braccae, and sought out his friend.

Esca was, predictably, with the horses, working with the stud down in their pasture, and Marcus was loath to interrupt. Instead he set about reacquainting himself with their goats and pigs, smiling happily as the big sow snuffled his hand before nearly butting him into the mud. 

According to the herb-woman, his insides would remain tender for a while longer, and he had been warned against doing anything strenuous for the foreseeable future. The surgeon, Roman-born and distrustful of the local herb lore, had nevertheless agreed with her.

“You were as close to death as is possible without crossing the threshold,” the surgeon had told him on his last checkup, just the two of them in the bright atrium. “I am still amazed that you are nearly fully recovered. However, you must take care. We cannot see what was injured inside you, and it would be easy to re-injure. If you show any signs, you must get to a healer immediately!” 

Marcus had nodded gravely, and said a silent prayer to the Gods for his recovery. 

Now, faced with the immensity of the chores before him that any farm demanded, he began to wonder how he could possibly follow those instructions and still help. It would be impossible for Esca to handle everything himself, nor should it fall all on his shoulders.

It was something the two of them would have to discuss, and soon. 

***

That night they ate in companionable silence, finishing the last of Maximus’ stew and the slightly stale bread. Esca had the worn look of a man who had worked a full day’s labor, and Marcus felt guilt pull at him for his friend’s weariness. 

“I think I can help work the horses tomorrow,” Marcus finally ventured, dipping his bread into the stew and keeping his eyes on his bowl. “If nothing else, I can exercise the mares while you work with the stud.”

Esca was silent for a moment, chewing thoughtfully.

“We can see how you fare tomorrow,” he finally pronounced, and Marcus knew it was all the concession he would get. 

They continued to eat in silence for another few moments before Marcus voiced the topic which had most been on his mind for some time. 

“The trinket girl,” he began, wincing as he realized he didn’t know her name. He truly did not wish to learn it, though he supposed he might have to. 

Esca looked up, expression startled at the sudden topic change. 

“You are going to ask her to marry you?” Marcus asked, forcing himself to meet Esca’s gaze. 

Something shifted in Esca’s expression, sadness and longing and regret all rolled into one, and he dropped his eyes, concentrating on dipping his bread into his stew. 

“No,” he said, softly. At Marcus’ continued silence, he added, “I do not think we would be suited for each other.”

For a moment Marcus hesitated, uncertain at this sudden news, then reached over and gingerly placed his hand atop Esca’s, stilling his useless dunking of his soggy bread. 

“She made you smile.”

Esca nodded, though his expression remained carefully shuttered. He turned over the hand Marcus still held and twined their fingers, though he did not look up.

“She is a nice girl, and pretty. It was fun to flirt with her, and I liked that she could make me laugh. But,” Esca paused, then took a deep breath and continued, finally meeting Marcus‘ curious gaze. “I realized that I wanted more than nice and pretty.”

Marcus squeezed Esca’s hand again, certain there was more that his friend was not saying but not wanting to push the issue and deepen his sadness. 

“You will always have me,” he offered instead, smiling a bit hesitantly, but hoping the gentle tease would lighten the mood. 

Esca smiled back, and suddenly his face was open once more, eyes bright and slightly damp. 

“We will always have each other,” he corrected. 

***

Before they readied for bed Marcus drank the potion Esca made for him, grimacing at the thick bitterness that coated his tongue. 

“I think I have drunk enough medicine to fill a small lake,” he said, scrunching up his face in disgust. 

“Then you should refrain from getting hit by large moving objects,” Esca scolded pitilessly. “How are you feeling? You look pale.”

“I am fine,” Marcus assured, and removed his tunic as he prepared to wash for the night. The air was chilly, even with the fire built up, and he wrinkled his nose at the bucket of water he would have to content himself with. “My side barely hurts at all.”

Esca nodded, his eyes taking in Marcus’ lean form critically, as though to measure every bit of weight he had lost and every new scar. Marcus tried to contain his flush as he set about scrubbing himself down, shivering despite himself and wishing once again for his uncle’s baths. 

When he was finished, he hastily dressed in the light linen tunic he slept in in colder weather, then wrapped one of the blankets from his bed around his shoulders as he sat near the fire, waiting for Esca to finish his own nightly ablutions. 

He kept his back turned, unwilling to dishonor his friend with his lustful thoughts, and tried to turn his mind away from the image of a naked Esca dripping with water.

“I think we should look into hiring some help, just until I am fully recovered,” he said, moving his bare feet closer to the fire. “I know money is a bit tight, but I think we can make it work.”

“Before Maximus left this morning he said that Bricius’ two sons were very helpful with the care of the farm. We can ask him about some kind of trade. There are some things you should not do, not for a while, and in the Spring I’m sure Bricius will be more than glad for any help we may offer,” Esca said, his voice distracted as he concentrated on washing. 

Marcus yawned before he could reply, suddenly sleepy as the medicine began to slow his thoughts. He was vaguely aware of Esca drying off with their spare sheet and then dressing in his own nightwear, though he determinedly kept his eyes on the flickering flame before him. 

“Come, before you fall asleep in front of the fire,” Esca coaxed, and a chilled hand wrapped around his arm to help him stand. He swayed slightly as he did so, leaning more of his weight onto Esca, and they both waited for him to steady before moving to the bed. 

Esca pulled back the blankets and furs and helped Marcus ease down onto the cool sheets. Marcus reached out and clung to his hand before he could pull away. 

“Stay,” he murmured, moving closer to the far edge of the bed to leave room for Esca to join him. “Please.”

Esca did not protest as he crawled under the blankets and arranged them so both men would be comfortable in the night, settling so his back was pressed against Marcus’ front. 

Esca must have made the medicine stronger than usual, for Marcus’ thoughts were distant and hazy, as though he were already dreaming. In his befuddled mind, there was no issue with the words he was about to speak, for what harm could words cause in a dream?

“I am glad you are not marrying the trinket girl,” he mumbled, and wrapped his arm around Esca’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“Oh?” Esca asked in a breathless whisper. 

“I do not think she would have loved you properly. Not the way I would love you,” Marcus said, and his words were barely above a whisper, muddled together as his lips struggled to form them. 

“And how would you love me?” Esca asked, desperation tinting his words, though Marcus could not hear it in his drugged state. 

“As the ocean loves the salt,” Marcus sighed, and felt himself finally drift off to sleep. 

He did not hear Esca’s startled gasp, or feel the hand which clung tightly to his. 

*** 

The cock’s crow woke them with the sunrise, still wrapped in each others arms, as though neither had stirred in their sleep.

Esca was the first to leave their warm nest, grumbling as he stumbled out of the bed and made his way to the chamber pot. Marcus instantly felt his loss, sitting up and blinking blurrily at the world around him as he tried to force his sleepy mind to fully wake. The chill in the air had his skin aching, even though he knew it wasn’t truly that cold. Not yet. 

“You can sleep longer,” Esca said, finishing his business and turning to Marcus, his eyes puffy from sleep but sharp nonetheless. 

“I want to help with the horses today,” Marcus said, and forced himself to stand up, rubbing his arms as he tried to dispel the chill. His left arm, the one he had broken, was nearly completely healed, though it was still tender if he moved it too quickly. “I can at least help with the feeding and watering, and work the mares while you try to get that stubborn stud to quit eating the stable.”

“Ha!” Esca’s laugh, long absent the past few months, was a lovely sound first thing in the morning. “Conlaoch may be stubborn, but he gets the job done. We should have at least two new foals in the spring with any luck.”

“He hates me and I am amazed the mares let him anywhere near them,” Marcus grumbled. 

He ignored Esca’s snicker as he took care of his own bodily needs, finding it harder than usual to will his morning erection away. He was thankful Esca was too busy dressing to seem to notice, his friend finally seeming to relax his constant vigilance about every one of Marcus‘ bodily functions. He had never been so thankful to be ignored. 

After washing his face with the biting cold water left over from the night before and dressing in his warmer tunic and braccae, Esca handed him the last of the bread, now hard and stale, and some sharp cheese with onions. 

“I will make some more bread today,” Marcus promised, his stomach grumbling as he gnawed at the simple fare. 

“We can have fish for supper,” Esca said thoughtfully, his cheeks puffed out with his own breakfast. 

They finished their meal quickly after that, each now eager to start the day’s chores. Marcus followed Esca out to the stable, keeping a wide birth from Conlaoch and making his way instead to his favorite mare, a sturdy creature with soulful eyes and a steady, peaceful disposition. 

“Hello, Valentia,” he cooed, rubbing her nose as she snuffled his chest, warm breath gusting over his neck in moist puffs. 

He petted her a moment longer before moving to help Esca fill the grain buckets. He was forbidden from mucking the stalls, but Esca did permit him to lay fresh hay and retrieve buckets of water. 

“Do not overtax yourself,” Esca warned as he lead Conlaoch out of his stall. His scowl was fierce as he glared at Marcus, as though daring him to push himself too hard. 

“Go!” Marcus snapped, pointing out toward the pasture with his own frown. “I know my limits!”

“You push your limits and then wonder why you do not recover quickly!” Esca admonished, and Conlaoch tossed his head, as though in agreement. 

“You are coddling me!” Marcus protested. 

Esca growled something in British, too low for Marcus to hear, and left the stable, Marcus grumbling his own curses as he set about getting the feed ready for the rest of the animals. Though they were not a large farm, they still had chickens, goats and pigs to manage, and all were crying for their breakfasts. 

After, Marcus set about tending his little garden, picking the last of the summer vegetables and readying it for the winter with hay and manure. By the time he was finished his body ached in a not altogether pleasant way, and he found himself more tired than he had expected. 

He scrubbed his arms and face with fresh water, then set about making bread for their noon and dinner meal. He left the loaves to cool and made his way back to the stable, where the mares were contentedly dozing and eating. 

Though he and Esca snapped at each other like crows squawking over a shiny object some days, the two of them always found their equilibrium. It was to be expected when living in such close and constant company, and Marcus felt untroubled over their morning spat. 

Gently, he laid himself down in one of the hay piles, intending to rest for just a bit before taking the mares out to give them a bit of exercise. But the hay was fragrant and warm, and cushioned him like the softest of mattresses. Soon, he was deeply asleep, oblivious to the chicken which found him to be a comfortable resting spot. 

***

“Marcus.”

The voice was soft, filled with laughter and tender affection. Marcus reluctantly roused himself to blink sleepily up at Esca’s amused face. He blinked in confusion, trying to remember why he was lying on a hay pile with one of their chickens resting happily on his stomach.

“It is time for some food,” Esca said softly, still with a smile hovering over his lips. 

Marcus blinked a few more times before sitting up, dislodging the chicken with a disgruntled squawk. 

“You were sleeping very deeply,” Esca laughed, gently brushing his hand through Marcus’ hair to remove bits of hay. “And Henrietta looked very comfortable.”

“We are not calling the chicken Henrietta,” Marcus said, his voice hoarse as though he had not spoken for several days, rather than since that morning. He cleared his throat as he brushed the chicken aside, ignoring her answering peck. 

“They are all called Henrietta,” Esca said, straight faced. 

They stared at each other a moment before breaking into loud, heartfelt laughter. 

Only after they had both calmed did Esca pull Marcus to his feet. 

“Are you well?” he asked, sobering as he took in Marcus’ appearance.

“Yes,” Marcus assured quickly, and brushed hay off his backside and legs, yawning as he stretched carefully. “I was just tired.”

Esca eyed him critically, judging the truth of his words, and then gestured towards the house. 

The bread was cold when Marcus cut it into triangles for them, chewy and soft and the perfect companion to the sharp cheese Esca loved. They drank heavily watered wine with the meal, Marcus grimacing at the slightly soured taste.

“We need to purchase some more when we next go to market,” he said absently, finishing his cup. 

Esca nodded, lips pursed thoughtfully. 

“I could try my hand at making mead,” he said, eyes narrowed as he considered what would be needed. “Fedelma is always happy to trade her honey for a rabbit or two.”

“Honey bread,” Marcus murmured, licking his lips as though he could already taste the sweetness. 

Both men fell silent as they pondered all the uses of honey. 

Marcus felt his cheeks heat in sudden embarrassment as the image of Esca with honey dripped over him filled his mind. He set his cup aside as he stood, eyes averted from Esca’s too knowing gaze. 

“Are you going fishing? I will set the mares through their paces if you are,” he said, making his way outside without waiting for a response. 

“Do not tax yourself!” Esca yelled behind him. 

***

Marcus may have, he considered ruefully, taxed himself that afternoon, but only a little bit. His shoulders ached from putting the horses through their exercises, and his stomach rumbled with slight nausea as he made his way back to the house. 

He stank of sweat and horse, and his leg throbbed in time with his heart. Despite his nap from earlier he felt exhausted, and hoped that Esca would not lecture him that night. 

He washed as quickly as he could before entering the house, the warmth of the sun quickly fading into the bitter chill of night as he finished scrubbing his arms and poured the rest of the water from the bucket over his head. He gasped at the chill, teeth clenched as he shook his head to rid his hair of the excess water, and made his way inside. 

He had beaten Esca back to the house, so he set about lighting the lamps for the night and stoking the fire, closing the shutters on the small windows and making sure the house was secure. 

The horses had already been fed again, as had the other animals, and although he was loath to admit it, Marcus was certain he had done too much for a first day back to doing chores. Still, he argued with himself, it was not fair to settle the entire workload on Esca’s shoulders, and he would just have to pace himself better tomorrow. 

He chopped up an onion and set it to cook on the fire with some of the green, spicy leaves Esca loved. He added some turnips for good measure, and was considering trying to make himself a cup of the medicine Esca kept pushing on him when his friend returned. 

Esca brought with him the chill of the night and the scent of dying leaves as he swept in through the doorway, the string of fish he carried attesting to his luck. He smiled broadly when he saw Marcus and took in the items already cooking. 

“You have been busy!” he said, setting down the fish, already gutted and cleaned, on the table. “I need to wash, but I will be quick.”

Marcus nodded as he left, not envying him the quick scrub in the cold air, but knowing that Esca did not feel it as Marcus did. In fact, he seemed to revel in the changing weather, welcoming the chill with an unnatural giddiness. 

Marcus shook his head at his friend’s oddness and set about cooking the fish. Although he was so tired his eyes were drooping, if he left the task to Esca everything would be burnt to a blackened lump. 

***

“You look tired,” Esca said as they ate their dinner.

Marcus nibbled on his fish rather than answer, keeping his eyes on his plate. 

“Are you well?” Esca persisted, his own eyes narrowed as they took in Marcus’ hunched form. 

“I am only tired,” Marcus said around his mouthful. He grimaced as he shifted against Esca‘s stare, froze for a moment, then put another bite of fish into his mouth. “Maybe tomorrow we can ask Fedelma about the honey.”

When there was no reply coming Marcus finally looked up, wincing at the hard glare Esca was directing his way. 

“You overtaxed yourself,” Esca finally pronounced. 

There was no use in arguing when the truth was evident to both of them. 

“I will be fine after a good sleep,” Marcus said instead, and pushed the remains of his dinner towards Esca. “I’m full.”

Esca accepted the offering without changing his expression, and when he had finished eating and set about cleaning the dishes, he shooed Marcus away before he could offer to help. 

“Go lay down. I will bring your medicine in a moment,” he said. 

Marcus slunk to his room, steps shuffling in his exhaustion, and set about preparing for bed. His arms ached as he dressed in his night tunic, and when he crawled into bed, he pulled the fur up to his shoulders and waited for Esca to bring him the bitter potion. 

He was more asleep than awake when Esca brought him the steaming cup, and he drank its contents quickly as Esca’s gentle hand checked his brow for fever. The two of them did not speak as Marcus settled more comfortably, curling his body to leave a space for his friend. 

Esca sat on the edge of the bed as Marcus drifted off, working on one of the harnesses and humming softly to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Marcus woke the next morning with the cock’s crow again, alone in his bed and chilled despite the blankets draped about him. His body ached, a low thrumming that seemed to pulse in time with his heart. 

When he sat up, blankets bunched around his waist, his stomach gave a warning cramp, and for a moment he feared he had done himself true harm yesterday, despite his words to the contrary the night before. 

When he managed to stand and make his way to the chamber pot, he let out a relieved breath when he saw his piss was a normal color, though he had no doubt that if he tried to do the chores as he had yesterday, he would dearly pay for it. 

He made his way slowly out of the bedroom, stopping when he saw Esca sitting at the table, already dressed and eating bread from the night before. He could not meet his gaze as he said, “I think you were right and I overtaxed myself yesterday. I -” he paused, then swallowed his pride. “I do not feel very well today.”

Esca was by his side immediately, taking his arm and leading him back into his room. 

“What do you mean you do not feel well? Do I need to seek a healer? The herb-woman who lives with Fedelma should be with her now, I think I can make it to them in an hour if I take Bridget, she’s swift and should be recovered from our journey here.” Esca’s voice was tight with fear and worry, his words tripping over each other in his haste to get them out. 

Marcus clutched his friend’s arm, preventing him from dashing out of the house, and used the other to cup Esca’s cheek, holding his gaze as he said, “I do not think the herb-woman is necessary. I feel - I feel tired and bruised, but not as though I have re-injured myself. I think if I rest today I will be well.”

Esca’s gaze was fierce as he placed both hands to either side of Marcus’ face, holding his eyes as he said in a low, serious voice, “Tell me true, Marcus. You will rest today, and tell me if you feel worse?”

“Yes,” Marcus agreed immediately, moving to rest his forehead against Esca’s, closing his eyes. “Honest and true, I do not think I did myself harm yesterday, only pushed myself harder than I should. I will rest today, and drink any foul medicine you would give me.”

They stood there a moment, foreheads pressed tightly together, until Esca pulled back and lead Marcus over to his bed, watching as he arranged himself comfortably under the covers. 

“I will make you something the herb-woman at Calleva gave me, for such an instance,” he said, frowning as he moved to open the shutters and let in the weak morning light and fresh air. 

When he returned, cup steaming and emitting a horrid odor, Marcus drank the brew without comment, trying not to make a face, and then settled more comfortably back onto the bed. 

“I do not like that you are taking all the work on your shoulders,” he said, watching as Esca retrieved another blanket from the chest at the foot of his bed and settled it with quick, practiced movements over Marcus. 

“And I do not like that you nearly died and cannot seem to understand that you need to pace yourself!” Esca snapped back. “The work is no more than I can handle, but I will talk to Bricius today about hiring his sons, if that will put your mind at ease.” His tone gentled as he sat on the very edge of the bed, resting his hand on Marcus’ forehead. “I cannot lose you,” he whispered. 

“You will not,” Marcus promised, and cupped Esca’s cheek. “I promise, I will only rest today, and tomorrow I will be better.”

For a long moment the two of them stared into each other’s eyes, and Marcus could not bear to see the pain in Esca’s face, to know he was the cause. Steeling all his courage, Marcus surged up and pressed his lips to Esca’s, the kiss chaste but firm. 

Esca pulled back, startled, fingertips brushing his lips as he stared at Marcus with wide eyes, and Marcus felt panic well up inside him. Had he ruined everything?

“Oh, you great fool!” Esca finally growled, and bent down to possess Marcus’ mouth with his own. 

He was gentle despite his passion, pressing Marcus, unresisting, back onto the mattress and claiming his mouth with tongue and teeth and firm lips. Marcus kissed him back just as passionately, hands twisting in Esca’s tunic as he struggled to keep from pulling his friend down on top of him. 

Finally, after several long minutes, Esca pulled back, breathing heavily. 

“We will talk about this tonight,” he said, no room for argument in his tone as he stood, hands clenched at his sides, as though to prevent himself from reaching for Marcus again. “For now, rest. I will see to the chores and talk to Bricius.”

And then he was gone, leaving Marcus to wonder what in Mithras’ name he had done. 

***

The medicine sent Marcus into a deep sleep, his slumber too heavy for dreams, and when he woke shortly after noon, he felt much restored. The pain in his stomach had nearly vanished, and his arm and side no longer ached. 

When he stood, scratching absently at his chest, he felt only a slight dizziness from being so long in bed, and made his way into their little common room for some food. On the table, covered by a cloth, was a plate of bread, cheese and an apple. 

Marcus ate slowly, his mind occupied with what had happened that morning. Had he truly kissed Esca? And Esca had kissed him back! 

He found himself smiling at the memory of Esca’s lips upon his and the way his hand had cupped his cheek, as though he were something precious. The way Esca had pressed him into the mattress, gentle even as he had claimed Marcus’ mouth. 

Something warm blossomed in Marcus’ chest, a surge of hope and love so strong that for a moment he had to rest his head in his hands, so overcome by the emotions. For the first time in a very long time he did not feel as though a great sword hung over him, waiting to fall and cut his life to pieces. 

Wiping his eyes, he returned to his meal, finishing it quickly. Although he had promised Esca he would rest, he felt much better, and wondered if his friend would be too terribly upset if he tended to a few of the simpler chores. 

Deciding to settle on the side of caution, Marcus retrieved the mending from the small pile that had slowly been accumulating since the first touch of spring, taking it out into the warm sunshine and making himself comfortable on a patch of still green grass. 

He hummed softly to himself as he sewed, taking solace in the honest work and the peace of the repetitive chore. 

***

The sound of an approaching horse broke his concentration several hours later, and he looked up from mending one of Esca’s heavier tunics to see his friend riding up the narrow path to their stable. 

“Hail, Esca!” he called in greeting, watching as his friend started in surprise, looking over his direction with a scowl on his face. 

Marcus found himself grinning at Esca’s expression, waiting for him to tend to the horse and then make his stormy way over to where Marcus sat, pile of garments neatly folded at his side. 

“I have been resting,” Marcus said before Esca could open his mouth. “I slept the morning away and woke feeling much refreshed. You know how much I enjoy taking care of the mending, and I promise that I have not strained myself.”

Esca continued to scowl for a moment more before letting out a deep sigh and sitting down beside Marcus, arms resting on upturned knees. 

“You look improved,” he finally said, watching as Marcus wove the needle through the cloth with a steady, even movement. 

“I feel much improved. Where were you coming from? Fedelma, or Bricius?” Marcus asked.

“Bricius.” Esca finally seemed to accept that Marcus was not going to relapse in the next few moments and allowed himself to lay back down, one arm covering his eyes from the late afternoon sun. “He has agreed to let his sons help around the farm until Samhain, in exchange for our help with the hunting this winter and spring.”

Marcus nodded at the deal, his attention focused on tying off the thread. 

“I should be nearly completely improved by then,” he agreed, and smiled as he set aside the needle and folded the tunic onto his finished pile. “At least, I hope I am.”

“You should be,” Esca agreed, and moved his arm to glance over at Marcus, his expression speculative. “I am hoping that by Yule you will be as strong as you ever were.” Something settled over Esca’s expression, a heat that Marcus had never seen before, but before he could comment Esca was standing, brushing his legs off. “I will see to the animals if you will take care of dinner.”

Marcus watched him stride away, unable to take his eyes off Esca’s arse, appreciating the way the muscles moved in his legs. Smiling, he set about gathering up the completed mending and headed into the house to make their supper. 

***

They ate mostly in companionable silence, tension thick between them. Every time Marcus looked up from his plate he would find Esca’s gaze upon him, speculative and a bit predatory. 

He did not mind. 

After, they tended to the dishes, then went about their own ablutions. Marcus kept his eyes averted as was his habit, but he caught a brief glimpse of Esca’s manhood, half hard and thick between his legs. 

He had quickly bowed his head, focused on scrubbing himself as thoroughly as possible with only a bucket and cloth, then settled by the hearth, Esca building up the fire until the room was filled with soft yellow light and warmth. They were both dressed in their night tunics, though neither of them had retrieved the small projects they usually worked on in the evening, and Marcus could feel his cheeks heat under Esca’s gaze. 

When he looked over to his friend, Esca was studying him intently, as though trying to work out a puzzle. Neither of them said a word as Esca leaned in slowly, eyes locked with Marcus’, and pressed their lips together. 

It was nothing like the kiss of that morning. 

Marcus found his mind blanked as he opened his mouth to Esca, allowing him to explore with tongue and teeth and soft, slightly chapped lips. He tasted of the supper they had just eaten, and a heady, metallic tang that could only be Esca himself. It was gentle, a promise of more to come. 

When Esca finally pulled back, it was only to rest his forehead against Marcus’, their noses rubbing gently as they breathed deeply. 

“I think there is something you have wanted to tell me for a while now,” Esca said softly, and placed another soft kiss to Marcus’ lips before sitting back, eyes dark and wanting in the dim light. 

Marcus breathed in deeply, the scent of woodsmoke and Esca filling his lungs, as though he had taken the essence of their home into himself. 

“There are many things I have wanted to say, for a very long time,” Marcus agreed. 

There was silence for a moment before Esca turned his gaze back to the fire. “You would have encouraged me to marry Bria, and said not a thing for the rest of our days.” Esca’s tone was steady as he stated this, a fact laid bare between them. 

“I have only wanted you to be happy,” Marcus explained, trying not to curl in on himself, fighting against lifelong instincts to hide. “I did not think my attentions would be wanted. Not that way.”

Esca’s sigh was more rueful than anything, and when he turned back to Marcus, his lips twisted into a sad smile. 

“I know Romans and their mores about sex. Who can sleep with whom, and why. I would not have asked you to go against your honor.”

Marcus found himself returning the sad smile, shaking his head at the situation. 

“I have never been very Roman in this,” he admitted, grimacing as he looked away from the gentle understanding in his friend’s eyes. 

Silence fell again, broken only by the popping of the fire and the faint rattling of wind against the shutters. 

“I think there has been enough talking for tonight,” Esca pronounced, standing in a fluid movement that Marcus could only envy. “Come, Marcus, let us go to bed.”

He reached out his hand and, as he had so many other times and circumstances, pulled Marcus to his feet and lead the way. 

***

Marcus was trembling. He, who had once been a centurion and faced countless men in battle, found his hand shaking as Esca released him to light the small lamp by his bed. He was not afraid, not of his Esca, but still he trembled and prayed to Mithras that Esca would not notice. 

When Esca turned back to him, eyes dark with want and steps determined, Marcus felt his breath stutter in his chest. He felt as prey, trapped in that heated gaze. 

“We will not do anything you do not wish,” Esca promised, his voice low and breathy, a tone Marcus had never heard from him before. Esca reached out and twisted his fingers in Marcus’ hair. “I promise, only what you want.”

“I -” Marcus found himself without words, floundering in the uncharted water he had dived into that morning. “I do not know what - I mean, I have never -”

“It is not so different from being with a woman,” Esca assured, running his other hand down Marcus’ side, sending his muscles jumping and twitching at the touch. “Only something to ease the way, and a bit of preparation.” 

Marcus found himself blushing, unable to meet Esca’s gaze, and lowered his eyes from that penetrating stare. 

“I have never, with anyone,” Marcus admitted, and waited for the mocking words he hoped would not come. 

There was a stunned silence, followed by a harshly drawn breath. 

“Never?” Esca asked, and his voice had gone ragged and hoarse. 

“Never.” Marcus finally looked up and was unprepared for the heat that filled Esca’s gaze, the utter want that quickened his breaths and tinged his cheeks red. “It does not…bother you?” 

“Oh, Marcus,” Esca sighed, and then, as though unable to contain himself, pulled Marcus to him in a fierce, passionate kiss that left them both breathless. “There is so much to show you!” 

Marcus found himself laughing, relief and nerves making him giddy. “I am eager to be shown.”

Esca kissed him again, twisting the hand in his hair almost to the point of pain, his other hand moving down his side, towards his cock, and Marcus felt his trembling increase as strong fingers caressed him through his tunic. 

He did not know what to do with his hands, and ended up settling them on Esca’s waist, moving them hesitantly towards the luscious arse he had fantasized so many nights about. Esca let out an encouraging moan as Marcus squeezed, and the hand on his cock tightened. 

They remained that way for several long, glorious moments, kissing and touching each other through the thin layer of cloth that was their night tunics. Finally, when Marcus’ leg began to tremble from strain rather than passion, Esca released Marcus’ mouth and cock, and said, “Let us take these off and get into bed.”

They undressed as they had a thousand times before, though for the first time Marcus allowed his gaze to linger on Esca’s form, on the wiry muscles of his arms and the defined tone of his stomach. When he allowed his gaze to move down, he found himself swallowing hard at Esca’s manhood, thick and hard and proudly jutting forward. 

He realized after a moment that Esca was looking his own fill, and felt his cheeks heat in self consciousness. He knew he had lost muscle due to his long convalescence, and when he washed he could feel his ribs, though he hoped Esca would like what he saw regardless. After all, Esca had known his body more intimately than any other, from his time as a body slave and during his care of Marcus during both his injuries. 

“You are beautiful,” Esca whispered, as though able to read Marcus’ thoughts. He moved, and ran his hand down Marcus’ chest, down his stomach to his slightly wilted cock, caressing it gently until Marcus shivered in desire and had fully thickened again. “Beautiful.”

Slowly, Esca guided Marcus down to the bed, laying him down and then settling beside him, his hands caressing and mapping as he leaned in for another kiss. 

Their legs twined, and Marcus felt for the first time the hardness of another man’s cock against his skin, felt the damp trail of desire Esca left upon his thigh as they slotted their bodies together. 

They kissed and touched and explored, until even Esca shook with wanting, and only then did he pull back, breathing heavily, licking his lips as he regarded Marcus with dark eyes.

“I want to take you in my mouth,” he whispered, and grasped Marcus’ cock as though to emphasize his intention. 

“But-” Marcus bit off the words of protest, swallowing them down as he had so many bitter medicines. Esca was not Roman. Perhaps this act did not seem dishonorable to him? 

“I am not Roman,” Esca reminded him, repeating Marcus’ own thoughts. “There is no shame in this, not when freely offered and taken. Please, my Marcus, will you let me?”

His eyes were so filled with desire that Marcus could only nod, and reveled in the kiss Esca pressed upon him, his mouth greedy and hungry, claiming Marcus with a small bite to his lip before releasing him to make his way down his body. 

Marcus kept his eyes open, though he also longed to close them as shame plucked at his thoughts. He should not want this, yet he did. He should be embarrassed at the way his cock strained upward, towards Esca’s lips, the way his mouth was suddenly dry at the thought of what was to happen. 

Esca smiled wickedly at him before he placed a kiss to Marcus’ right thigh, then his left, then licked a trail up Marcus’ cock.

Marcus gasped, gripping the bed sheets tight as he watched Esca take his cock into his mouth, the sensation nothing he had ever imagined. Warm, and wet, and suction that left him fighting the urge to buck his hips in an attempt to get more, closer, deeper! 

Esca hummed encouragement, the sound vibrating all through Marcus’ cock, until he was gasping with desire and need, and found his hand, almost against his will, resting on Esca’s head. 

Esca’s eyes were closed in apparent bliss as he sucked and worked his mouth around Marcus’ cock, one hand steadying the base, as Marcus was quite endowed and he could not take all of him. He pulled off briefly to lick and suck at Marcus’ balls, and then returned to his cock at Marcus’ bitten off curse. He could feel his friend was close, could tell by the way Marcus seemed to thicken in his mouth, and when the hand in his hair tried to push him away, he merely shook his head and continued to suck. 

Marcus let out a strangled cry and stiffened, his spend flooding Esca’s mouth, thick and slightly salty. He drank him down, continuing to lick and suck until Marcus had finished, then licked him clean. 

Marcus lay panting on the bed, his eyes closed, cheeks and neck flushed and a light sheen of sweat on his brow. His lips were kiss swollen and red, slightly chapped from his open mouthed breaths, and when he finally opened his eyes they were almost entirely pupil, drugged on lust and satisfaction. 

Esca smiled down at him, his own arousal a pleasant background thrum, and bent to kiss Marcus with closed lips. When he pulled back, Marcus smiled the sweetest smile Esca had ever seen.

Esca smiled back, kissing him again as he shifted on the bed, moving so his hardness pressed against Marcus’ thigh. 

“Would you finish me with your hand?” he asked softly, and was rewarded by a shiver that seemed to shake Marcus’ whole body. 

The hand that gripped his cock was hesitant, the calluses rough against his delicate skin. Marcus’ hand was giant, seeming to wrap about Esca’s entire length, and he moved gently, uncertain. 

Esca knew Marcus took himself in hand on a regular basis. They had lived long enough together and in such close quarters that he knew Marcus’ habits, as Marcus did his. They had politely ignored each other’s activities, giving the illusion of privacy, and Esca wondered now if Marcus touched him as he would himself, or if his gentleness was from fear. 

“You can grip harder,” he encouraged, and hissed in satisfaction as the hand holding him tightened. 

Marcus moved with a steady, slow rhythm, his hand twisting at the head and then moving back down to the base, and in a few short moments Esca was stiffening and spending, his seed pulsing white along Marcus’ thigh. 

He panted for breath as the last of his release covered Marcus’ hand, and he shivered in delight as Marcus released him and brought his hand to his mouth. His tongue was tentative as he tasted Esca’s essence, his mouth puckering in dislike and surprise. 

Esca could not help but laugh at his expression, collapsing down on top of him and giggling as Marcus joined in his mirth. 

“It is not a taste all people like,” he assured breathlessly, smiling as Marcus wrinkled his nose and kissed him gently. 

They lay there for a while, catching their breath and enjoying the contented lethargy that pulled at their limbs, trading lazy kisses and soft caresses. 

Finally, as the chill of the room started to cool their heated flesh, Esca rose on wobbly legs and retrieved the wash bucket from the kitchen, grinning as he cleaned Marcus, and then himself, of their passion. 

He left the cloth and the bucket off to the side, to be thrown out in the morning, and settled comfortably onto the bed, on Marcus’ good side. Their legs entwined again, and Marcus wrapped his arm around Esca’s waist, sleep already pulling them both into her embrace. 

“Thank you,” Marcus whispered, the words muffled against Esca’s shoulder. 

Esca did not reply, but kissed Marcus hair and settled more comfortably on the pillow next to him. 

Neither of them dreamt that night, clinging to each other as they slept, as though unable to be parted for even a moment.

***

Marcus woke to gentle fingers caressing his side, following the small, slightly raised scars that the surgeon had left when he had bled Marcus after the accident. 

His skin was no longer mottled with bruises, but the scars would remain. A reminder, much like his leg, of how close he had come to passing over the threshold.

“You are so fair,” Esca’s sleepy voice said softly by his ear, his breath warm against the chill of the night on the delicate skin. “How is it that I am the first you have known?”

Marcus hummed thoughtfully, his mind still in the twilight between wakefulness and sleep. 

“I have never desired the company of a woman,” he finally murmured, blinking his eyes open only to find the room still in complete darkness, Esca’s face a slightly paler shadow on the pillow beside him. 

“But when you were in the legion?” Esca asked, and there was no censure in his voice, only a hesitant kind of curiosity. “Surely there were men who felt as you do? Who desired you?”

“It was not… good politics to mingle with me, socially,” Marcus answered delicately. 

He thought back to when he was a youth and newly joined, the joy and fear he had felt intermingled with an unwavering desire to bring his family’s honor back. Every spurn, every dark whisper behind his back, had only kept the fires of his determination burning. 

“I had few friends, but even then it would have been a scandal to be seen as any type of lover to me. And I did not wish to bring any more dishonor to my family with acts considered… unmanly, or perverted. It was easier to keep to myself, and take care of my own needs.”

Esca’s fingers, which had continued to caress his side gently, moved to find his hand, and entwined their fingers with a gentle squeeze. 

“It is an honor to be your first,” Esca said softly, though his tone was fierce, as though to fight the very notion that being Marcus’ lover was something to be ashamed of. 

“I do not think I could have chosen any other,” Marcus admitted, and squeezed Esca’s hand. “Though I know you will think many of our ways silly, I ask only that you try to be patient with me.”

His lips were suddenly captured in a passionate kiss, nearly cutting off his words as Esca plundered his mouth. When he finally pulled back, breathing heavily, Esca said, “We will go slow, and you must tell me if you wish me to stop. The ways of my people are different, and we find only pleasure in the things yours seem ashamed of. We will travel this path together.”

Marcus did not reply in words, merely sealed their lips together in another kiss. When they broke apart, noses touching and breath mingling, Marcus found himself laughing.

“Why are we up at this hour?” he asked, and Esca giggled. 

“Because I find it hard to sleep when I have you in my arms,” Esca whispered and kissed him once more before settling back. “But let us try to sleep some more, the morning will be upon us soon enough.”

They rearranged themselves on the pillow and pulled the blankets closer, wrapping their arms about each other as they drifted back into sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The following days passed quickly as their little farm fell into a new rhythm. They would wake with the cock’s crow, shuffling blearily to the kitchen to break their fast. Usually Esca would pull Marcus into a fierce kiss before they set about their chores, inquiring about his health before he let him step outside.  
  
“I am fine!” was always Marcus’ answer, but Esca would watch him closely as they fed the animals, and would banish Marcus back to the house to rest in the afternoons, once Bricius’ sons arrived.   
  
Aged twelve and fourteen, they were fair lads, with their father’s blond hair and muscular build. They were always polite, and greeted Marcus with reserved friendliness, though they tended to hover closer to Esca, as though uncertain of their welcome from the Roman.  
  
Esca ignored their shyness and set them to work on the tasks Marcus was still unable to perform; mucking the stalls and doing any repair work on the fences or the house itself. He ordered them confidently, as though he had no doubt they would do as commanded, and Marcus could see the chieftain he would have been in those moments.   
  
When left to themselves the three would speak British, though the elder of the two siblings, Weylin, would sometimes greet Marcus in halting Latin or ask how he fared.   
  
Marcus always answered as simply as he could, though he gave no sign of his fluency in British, as Esca had warned him once that their neighbors, though friendly enough, were still wary of Romans, and it was a benefit to be underestimated.  
  
“They trust me, and you by extension, but they’ll speak more freely if they believe you won’t understand,” Esca had explained one night their first year on the farm.   
  
Marcus had nodded and kept his mouth closed, remembering their time beyond the wall, and how his true ignorance then had allowed Esca and those of that land to speak freely and openly about things he chose not to dwell on.   
  
Much had changed since then, and with Esca’s patient tutelage, the bits of gossip that floated to his ears were always the more savory since they believed he knew nothing of what they spoke.  
  
It became a joke between the two of them, to see how long Marcus could keep a straight face while Esca encouraged the more outlandish stories. In the evenings they had often laughed about what they had heard and then planned better strategies for their next encounters.   
  
Now their evenings were filled with other things, and the whispers between them were the soft words of lovers and the shapeless sounds of passion. Slowly they learned each other’s bodies with lips and hands, Marcus growing more sure as Esca allowed him to touch and explore in ways no Roman would have considered.   
  
The first time Marcus took Esca into his mouth he had been afraid, hesitant and ashamed of the desire that overwhelmed him. He had pressed his face to Esca’s belly, breathing deep of his scent as Esca rubbed soothing hands through his hair and over his shoulders, murmuring endearments softly as Marcus fought against himself.   
  
When he had finally gathered his courage and allowed Esca to push his swollen cock past his dry, cracked lips, the soft moans and gasps he had wrung from his friend had been worth every moment of doubt. He knew his ministrations had been clumsy and uncertain as he struggled to take as much of Esca into his mouth as possible, but Esca’s hands had remained gentle, and his hips still, as Marcus learned the taste and texture of his cock.  
  
Before he could spend, Esca had pushed Marcus off and finished himself with his hand, and Marcus had watched as the pleasure washed over him, his face slack with lust and the lassitude that often followed release.   
  
Esca had returned the favor once he had rested a moment, and Marcus could only marvel as his spend was swallowed with no hesitation, Esca licking his lips as though he found the taste the most satisfying thing in the world.   
  
Still, Marcus knew there were other things to do between them, things that brought a blush to his cheeks and would have him hunching his shoulders, as though he could hide from the very thought.   
  
The idea of being inside Esca, of the two of them becoming one, if only for a short while, aroused him intensely, and he would sometimes hide himself away and take himself in hand while listening to Esca ordering the two boys about. Something about his assured way of speaking, of his confidence and competence, had Marcus nearly ready to spend before he could even pull himself from his garments.   
  
He tried to keep his midday activities secret, embarrassed by his lack of control, but it seemed Esca always knew when he had done so, and would look at him with heated eyes and a predatory smile that had Marcus struggling to conceal his desire.   
  
Soon, he thought to himself, sitting at their kitchen table as he arranged herbs in little bundles to dry before the fire. Marcus’ leg had been burning since they had left the warmth of their bed that morning and Esca had banned him from doing even the simplest of chores that day.   
  
Outside, Esca’s sure and confident tone gave orders, and Marcus struggled to keep his mind from wandering in decidedly scandalous directions. The thought of Esca ordering him like that…   
  
He shivered, and forced himself to concentrate on the little bundle of herbs before him. 

“….and once the thatch is mended that will be all for today,” Esca finished, and made shooing noises as he set the boys toward their tasks.  
  
Marcus watched through the open doorway of their kitchen, admiring Esca’s arse as he made his way over the slight hill towards the pasture before disappearing from view.  
  
To the right of the doorway the boys set about weaving thatch for the roof, giving Marcus tentative smiles, which he returned as reassuringly as he could. He determinedly pushed his arousal aside and tried to be thankful for their presence. Soon enough it would be just him and Esca again, and perhaps this would be the night he would ask about doing the things he fantasized.  
  
“Do you suppose they had a wedding?”   
  
The question, posed by the younger brother, Gwri, took Marcus completely by surprise, and he hoped that neither boy was paying attention to him, as he knew his face would reveal his utter shock. He watched them from beneath his lashes as they wove the thatch, their attention on each other and the work, and forced his own hands to continue their chore.   
  
“I do not think Romans are allowed to,” Weylin answered. “At least, that’s what mother says. She thinks they settled here so they could be together.”  
  
“Father says we must not let on that we know, or else the Roman will be upset. Do you think he truly loves Esca, or is only -”  
  
“Of course he does!” Weylin’s voice was sharp, followed by the sound of a soft smack as he hit his brother on the arm, and then an indignant yelp from Gwri. “He looks at Esca the way Edana looked at Annan. And did you not hear Esca tell Fergus off, last spring, when he said the Roman was like a clumsy bull? I thought my ears would catch fire!”  
  
Gwri’s laugh was rueful and slightly embarrassed, in the way of young boys who were speaking of things they still found mysterious and forbidden.   
  
“Father said the Roman almost died, when he saved everyone at the market and the cart landed on him. He told mother he thought Esca would follow, if he did not make it.”  
  
“I think he may have. You have seen how protective he is,” Weylin agreed.   
  
There was a sudden rustle from overhead as the boys clambered onto the roof, forcing Marcus to hunch over to prevent the stirred dust from getting in his eyes. Quickly he moved to stand near the doorway, out of the way of any falling debris, his ears straining to make out the ongoing conversation.   
  
“…says he is still in pain,” Gwri pronounced, as though he were continuing a sentence Marcus had missed. “That is why he will not let him go outside today.”  
  
“Remember when Edana was pregnant with her first baby? Annan acted the same way, until she hit him over the head with her broom. I don’t think the Roman will hit Esca, though,” Weylin said thoughtfully.   
  
Marcus had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent his laughter from escaping. He leaned against the doorway as he struggled to keep the boys from hearing his mirth at the thought of trying to smack Esca with a broom. In all likelihood, he would be the one beaten!  
  
He could not wait to speak to Esca about this.

***  
  
The boys left well before sundown, given a small bundle of herbs for their mother to dry in thanks, and Esca returned shortly after, covered in sweat and dirt from working with the horses and tending to whatever repairs he could see to himself.   
  
“Wash!” Marcus ordered, pointing toward their well and blocking Esca from entering the kitchen. “You smell like a latrine!”  
  
“Yes, _Domine_,” Esca grumbled, scowl firmly in place, and stomped over to do as he was bid.  
  
Marcus wrinkled his nose in consternation and sighed, hoping the dinner he prepared would work as a small penance for his thoughtless words. He built up the fire and had just retrieved Esca’s night tunic for him when his friend came back in, scrubbed pink and shivering slightly from the cool air.   
  
“I am sorry,” Marcus said immediately, limping over to him and handing him the tunic, keeping his eyes lowered from Esca’s nakedness. He would not leer at him when he was still angry.   
  
“Idiot,” Esca murmured fondly, dressing quickly and then pulling Marcus down for a quick, chaste kiss. “What have you made for supper? It smells good.”  
  
Marcus smiled in relief, knowing he was forgiven, and ladled thick stew into their bowls. He ate sparingly, the fire in his leg dampening any hunger he might have felt, and focused on tearing his bread into smaller and smaller pieces as he waited for Esca to finish.   
  
“How bad is your leg?” Esca asked after his initial hunger had been sated.   
  
“No worse than it has been,” Marcus answered, and gathered his crumbs from the table and his empty dish.   
  
Esca’s eyes narrowed at him, but before he could question Marcus further Marcus said, “I heard the boys speaking today. They had some very interesting things to say!”   
  
Quickly he relayed the conversation he had overheard, minus the part about hitting Esca with a broom, and watched as his friend’s eyes widened in astonishment.   
  
“Well,” Esca finally said, scratching absently at his scarred ear. He seemed to run out of words after that.  
  
“How is it that others saw what was between us before we did?” Marcus asked, sitting back down heavily at the table, palms spread wide in his dismay.  
  
“Maybe because it _was_ between us,” Esca murmured thoughtfully. “I do not remember when I fell in love with you, only that I did. I can barely remember how I hated you once, because now I look upon your face and see only someone I would die for. “  
  
Marcus felt emotion well up inside him at the words, spoken so plainly, as though they were merely a fact Esca was laying out for him, rather than his heart laid bare.   
  
“I -” Marcus coughed, lowered his eyes from the intensity of Esca’s gaze, and said, “I remember when I knew for certain that what I felt for you was beyond anything my heart had experienced before. When I woke up on that beach, and you placed a sword in my hand. I knew then that I loved you, and would for however long my life lasted.”  
  
“That was -” Esca swallowed, his eyes suddenly damp, though he did not cry. “That was over four years ago,” he said softly.   
  
Marcus nodded and forced himself to look back up.   
  
“If it were possible I would marry you and make you my husband. If you would have me.” Esca’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock. “I have only ever wanted you to be happy, to be alive and well. From the moment I saw you in that arena, too proud to fight, I wanted you to live.”   
  
Marcus reached out and took Esca’s hand, squeezing the lax fingers with his own. “I would beg a thousand times over for your life. I would give my own, if it meant yours was spared.”  
  
Now the tears did fall from Esca’s eyes, and he hastily wiped them away with the hand not held by Marcus, turning his face away as he fought to compose himself.   
  
For a long moment the only sound in the house was the crackling of the fire and their ragged breaths.  
  
“I would not -” Esca stopped. He cleared his throat and turned back to Marcus, scowl firmly in place again. “If you should die, know that I will not be far behind. Do not think you shall escape me so easily. If I have to kill myself to follow you, I will.”  
  
There was a challenge in his voice, daring Marcus to contradict him.   
  
“Then we shall have to live and die together,” Marcus whispered, his voice rough and broken.   
  
Esca nodded, wiped his eyes again and sniffled into the sleeve of his tunic.   
  
“Enough talking,” he finally pronounced and stood, not releasing Marcus’ hand but using it to pull him to his feet. “Go lay down and I will make your medicine.”  
  
Marcus did not move.   
  
“I think I would rather kiss you,” he said, and put action to words, wrapping his arms around Esca’s smaller frame and pulling him close, kissing him with everything he had, all the emotion that he had tried so hard to suppress over the years.   
  
When they finally parted they were both panting, Esca’s eyes nearly black with desire and his cheeks flushed a dark red. He gently touched Marcus’ cheek, letting his fingers caress a path down to the slightly swollen lips.   
  
“If you would have me, Marcus Flavius Aquila, I would gladly take you to be my husband.”   
  
Marcus closed his eyes and breathed out a long, shaky breath, fighting the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. Esca pulled him down gently until their foreheads touched.   
  
“You are trembling,” he whispered, and placed a kiss softly to Marcus’ lips before taking a step back, still holding Marcus’ hand. “Come, you need to rest.”  
  
“I do not wish to,” Marcus sulked, though he allowed Esca to lead him to the bedroom and settled heavily on their bed. Loath as he was to admit it, his leg burned and ached fiercely.   
  
“I do not care.” Esca smiled mischievously down at him and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’ll massage your leg in a moment, I know it still pains you.”  
  
He moved away before Marcus could protest, heading to their kitchen to make the foul medicine he insisted Marcus drink every night. For a moment, Marcus had serious thoughts about grabbing their broom.  
  
Then Esca returned and gently helped him sit up to drink, the brew disgusting but familiar, and soon Marcus floated in a hazy lassitude as Esca skillfully massaged the ache in his leg until only a dull throbbing remained.  
  
“I want to do so many things with you,” Marcus mumbled as Esca secured the house, making sure the shutters were closed tight and the fire was set for the night, blowing out the lanterns until the room was nearly completely dark.   
  
“And we shall do them all, when you are not hurting so much,” Esca assured.   
  
He settled himself in the space Marcus created, wrapping the blankets about them both.   
  
“I do not mind a bit of pain, if it means I may bring you some pleasure,” Marcus sighed, and received a gentle kiss for the admission.   
  
“Sleep, my Marcus. We will talk tomorrow.”  
  
With Esca’s arms wrapped securely around him, Marcus faded off to a dreamless slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

Marcus’ leg kept him bed-bound for the next several days. It was a familiar ache, a burning, throbbing heat that seemed to pulse with his heart and left him curled on their bed.  


The scars on his thigh were red and slightly swollen, and the first truly cold days of autumn seemed to find him even under a layer of blankets. When Esca checked on him the afternoon of the second day, he frowned in worry as he pronounced that Marcus had a fever.   


“It is just the chill in the air,” Marcus soothed even as his teeth chattered and he pulled the blanket tighter about his shoulders. “I’ll be well again soon.”

Esca did not smile, and his brow furrowed as he muttered to himself, leaving Marcus’ side only long enough to make a tea that tasted slightly less horrible due to years of drinking it. 

Marcus did not protest and allowed Esca to smooth the hair from his forehead, his eyes crinkled at their corners in worry. Although not as strong as some of the other potions, Marcus found himself drifting between sleep and wakefulness, distantly aware of soft voices speaking from the kitchen.

“This is an old wound,” Esca said, and although his voice was as confident as ever when speaking with the boys, Marcus could still hear the worry. “The cold weather is no friend to him.”

“Father says this year will be hard,” Weylin said, and Marcus could hear the honest fear in his voice. 

“He will be recovered,” Esca assured. “Once the weather has settled, so will he. Now, off home with you.”

There was a murmuring of goodbyes, and then Esca was back in the bedroom, lighting lamps and making sure the fire had fuel for the night. Marcus felt a pang of guilt at once more not being able to help. 

“Do you want me to make dinner?” he asked, words slurred in his fatigue, but his voice earnest. 

Esca smiled down at him as he set a cup on the small table by their bed. 

“No, I will manage. You need to rest some more.”

Marcus snorted, an inelegant sound that had Esca laughing at him. 

“Rest, Marcus. I have you.”

Knowing no truer words had ever been spoken, Marcus let himself drift. 

***

Marcus’ fever broke the next day, leaving him sweating and loath to remain in bed, eager to wash away the smell of sickness. He waited until Esca left for the morning and then washed thoroughly, scrubbing until his skin was pink and he no longer wrinkled his nose at his own scent. 

Next, he set about changing their bedding. It would be too cold soon to wash the linen sheets, so he set about the task as best he could while there was still a little warmth remaining in the day. He moved slowly and rested often, and by the time the boys arrived in the afternoon, the sheets were drying in the gentle breeze and Marcus was beating the furs from their bed. 

“You are up!” Weylin exclaimed when he saw him, his face breaking into a genuinely happy smile.

“You look better,” Gwri agreed, his Latin halting but understandable. 

“Thank you,” Marcus said, and smiled shyly at them as he rested. “Did Esca have chores for you?”

Weylin frowned as he tried to translate what Marcus had asked, but was spared by Esca appearing from the stable, his tunic covered with bits of straw and a smear of dirt on his cheek. 

“You are going to drive yourself back into a fever!” were his first words as he glared at Marcus. 

“I will not,” Marcus protested, and fought the urge to return Esca’s scowl with his own. “I feel well today.”

“Yes, _today_,” Esca sighed, then turned his frown toward the boys, who were trying, unsuccessfully, to hide their grins. “There is not much left to be done around the farm. I think if you help me gather wood, that should be all. Samhain is coming soon, and your father has been very generous. Please give him our thanks for your help, and let him know I will go hunting tomorrow and bring him something for his pot.”

“It has been our honor,” Weylin said softly, and Marcus was almost certain the boys seemed saddened at the thought of not visiting them. 

Marcus watched as Esca lead the boys toward the woods, and resumed beating the furs. He would be sad when they no longer visited every day, but he admitted, if only to himself, that he would be glad for the peace of their farm once more. 

***

Esca left to hunt early the next morning, and though Marcus longed to go with him, they both knew that he was still in no condition to be on a horse in the cold for long stretches of time.

The wounds from the summer had nearly completely healed, but left in their place were new aches and pains, and he tired very quickly. 

“Be safe,” he had said, and kissed Esca tenderly before watching him set off into the woods. The snow had not arrived yet, but the wind was biting and Marcus worried nonetheless. 

When Esca returned that night, tired but with a triumphant smirk and a buck safely secured to his horse, Marcus could only smile back and reward his hunting with passionate kisses and a promise of more. 

They tended the carcass quickly and prepared it to be salted the next day, then scrubbed the blood and gristle from their hands and cleaned as well as they could with the bucket he had left hanging by the fire. The water was amazingly warm, and it was no hardship to help Esca wash the day away.

Esca ate quickly, his stomach grumbling, and the appreciative noises he made as he supped on chicken and fresh made bread went straight to Marcus’ cock. 

After, they retired for the night, with no thought of sleep on either of their minds. 

“There is something…” Marcus trailed off, uncertain how to place words to his desire. He licked his lips, watched as Esca followed the movement, and strengthened his resolve. “There was something you mentioned, the first night we lay together. About it being similar to lying with a woman.”

Esca nodded and placed gentle, sucking kisses to Marcus thigh, just above his scars. 

“Do you wish to be with me that way?” Esca asked as he trailed his fingers up Marcus’ side. 

“Yes,” Marcus whispered, and felt his cheeks heat at the thought. 

“How is your leg?” Esca asked, and Marcus could not keep himself from rolling his eyes. 

“Esca, I am fine!” he protested, and gently kicked Esca’s shin with his bad leg to prove his point. 

“You would say you were fine even if your leg had fallen off,” Esca scolded, and trapped Marcus’ leg with his own. “I would not hurt you for anything, and what you ask may strain you.”

“Then I will be strained, and glad of it!” Marcus huffed before he took Esca’s hand and paced it over his hardened cock. “Does this feel like I am in pain to you?”

“Well…” Esca tightened his grip and smirked at the resulting groan. “You certainly sound like something is straining.”

“Do not tease.” Marcus gentled Esca’s hand by placing his own over it, stilling any movement. “I want - I want to be with you. That way.”

Esca’s smile softened, and he withdrew his hand slowly, letting his fingers caress Marcus’ hardness for a moment. 

“I will need to get the oil,” he murmured. “And you must tell me if anything we do causes you pain. I mean it, Marcus. I will not enjoy this if you are hurting.”

“I promise,” Marcus agreed, and Esca watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment before he moved, retrieving the oil they used on the lamps from under the bed. 

“Women get wet when aroused,” he said softly as he poured a bit of oil on his fingers. “With men, we have to prepare ourselves.”

“I know the ways of sex!” Marcus felt compelled to protest. “Gods know the men around me talked about it enough.”

Esca smiled down at him as he moved his hand, his eyes closing briefly as he breached himself.

“Hearing what men brag about and knowing the truth of a thing are entirely separate,” he said, his tone gentle. “Also, it has been a very long time since I took another man into myself, and you are quite endowed, my Marcus.”

Marcus felt his cheeks heat again, much to Esca’s apparent delight. 

“Will you - I want to do this for you,” Marcus offered. “Will you show me what to do?”

Esca nodded and, with the patience that sometimes made Marcus’ chest feel too tight, he guided Marcus through opening him up so he could accept Marcus cock into his body.

It was nothing like Marcus had expected, the feel of smooth skin and heat. His fingers shook as he followed Esca’s breathless instructions, wringing soft moans and gasps from him. 

“Lie back,” Esca instructed, and Marcus did so, his head propped up by their pillows so he could watch as Esca slowly sank down on his cock. 

Marcus had to close his eyes, the feeling of Esca’s body closing around him overwhelming. His body shook, with nerves and desire and the urgent want to thrust, but he held himself steady, allowing Esca to set the pace. 

“Open your eyes,” Esca urged, and when Marcus did so it was to see Esca staring down at him tenderly.

His knees were splayed to either side of Marcus’ thighs, allowing him to keep his weight from Marcus’ injured leg, and his eyes were heavy with lust. His cock had wilted a bit, but even as Marcus watched it began to plump up again, and Esca slowly stroked himself. 

“_Esca_,” Marcus whispered, unable to find any other word to describe what he was feeling. 

“Put your hands on my hips,” Esca said, and Marcus obeyed, feeling the muscles tense as Esca slowly began to move.

It was overwhelming. The new sensations, the desire that seemed to burn between them, all of it was swiftly threatening to have Marcus spend.

“I w-will not last long,” Marcus panted, and Esca nodded, as though he had fully expected this.

He continued to move in a smooth, easy rhythm, rising and falling on Marcus’ cock as though he were riding a horse, his stomach muscles clenching and his thighs gripping Marcus’ own tightly. 

It was too much, and not enough, and within a few minutes Marcus was gasping, crying out wordlessly as he spent into Esca’s body, his hands tightening with what he knew was bruising force. 

Esca’s hand, which had been slowly working his own cock the entire time, sped up, and after a moment his own spend marked Marcus’ stomach, creamy white splatters that felt burning hot against over sensitized skin. 

Esca tipped forward, allowing his head to rest on Marcus chest for a moment as they panted together, their hearts thundering.

“I’m going to move now,” Esca finally whispered, and Marcus was thankful for the warning as his cock slipped free with a lewd, wet sound. 

Esca moved on wobbly legs to retrieve the bucket and cloth, and Marcus helped him clean before turning the cloth to himself. 

“Was - did you enjoy that?” Marcus asked, hesitant now that the rush of desire had passed. 

Esca burrowed deeper under the covers with a satisfied hum, resting his head on the pillow so they were almost nose to nose. 

“It was perfect,” Esca assured, and placed a tender kiss to Marcus lips. “You did very well.”

Marcus could not help but laugh at that. 

“I only did as you instructed,” he protested, running his fingers over Esca’s cheek. “You did all the work.”

“Marcus.” Esca’s tone was fond, but it held the warning note he used when Marcus was being particularly dense about something. “You did very well.”

Marcus smiled, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. 

“One day… would you… I think,” he paused, trying to gather his courage. “Would you do that. To me?”

He could feel Esca’s wonder and uncertainty in the sudden tightening of his body, but his words were gentle as he asked, “You would take me into your body?”

“Yes,” Marcus agreed quickly, even as his cheeks burned. “We are equals, Esca. I would not ask of you what I will not give.”

Esca seemed to be weighing his words as the silence grew between them, not strained or awkward, but filled with a heaviness nonetheless. 

“If you truly wish this, we shall do it,” he finally said, and quickly placed a finger to Marcus’ lips before he could speak. “But only if you truly wish this, and not because you feel obligated. We walk this path together, Marcus, and I know what you are asking.”

“I do not know if I will enjoy it,” Marcus conceded when Esca removed his finger to allow him to speak. “But I want to try.”

“Then, one day, we shall,” Esca agreed. “For now, how is your leg?”

“What leg?” Marcus asked, and broke into an undignified giggle at Esca’s put upon sigh. “Truly, I cannot feel my legs, you have taken such good care of me!”

“You are very silly,” Esca said fondly, and placed another kiss to Marcus’ lips. “We will see if you are so tomorrow.”

Marcus sighed happily in agreement and wrapped his arm around Esca tightly, fatigue pulling at them both. 

No matter what the next day brought, he would never regret what had passed between them this night. 

***

Samhain arrived three days later, and with it the first snow of the season. Esca insisted on building a large bonfire, and carved lanterns to ward off the evil that would pass their way that night. 

They sacrificed one of their goats to the gods in the light of the bonfire, and Esca left wine and milk next to the lanterns guarding their door. He built up the fire in the house, and lit all the lamps within, until the air was thick with the smell of smoke and ash, and the two of them passed a cup of wine back and forth between them as they talked quietly into the night. 

When they finally drifted off to sleep, the hour closer to dawn than dusk, they were both pleasantly drunk and good humored. They traded sloppy kisses as slumber pulled at them, and giggled at each other for no reason save for they were happy to be in each other’s arms. 

When they woke the next day, the sun high in the sky and the bonfire nothing but ashes dusted with a light layer of snow, they groggily made their way through their chores and smiled happily at each other. 

Life had returned to normal on their little farm. 

***

Two weeks after Samhain it was decided that a trip to the market was needed. Their wine was running low, as well as their oil, and Esca needed new leather for a harness. The roads were still in good condition, not yet too muddy from the rain and snow, and the true cold of winter had not set in.

They left before dawn and made good time, with the frigid air stealing the breath from their lungs. Marcus shivered and his teeth chattered, though he wore his warmest cloak and tunic, and Esca’s cheeks and ears turned red, his smile bright in the predawn hour.

Their horses were eager to be moving, seeming to relish the cold as much as Esca, and it was only a few hours before the smell of fresh bread and cooked meat reached their noses, and the raucous noise of the market welcomed them. 

Every trip to market began with a purchase from the bread seller just beyond the main gate, the one with loaves warm and crunchy, and some kind of spicy cheese often mixed in. Marcus’ mouth watered in anticipation as they neared.   


“After we get bread where did you want to start?” Esca asked, and the question pulled Marcus up short. 

Valentia skittered sideways at his sudden tensing and he soothed her absently, stroking a hand down her neck and hushing her as he offered an apologetic smile to those who had to move out of her way.   


He ignored Esca’s raised eyebrow as he mulled over the question. 

That summer, the previous trips to market had always begun with the two of them going separate ways after purchasing the bread, Marcus to attend his own errands while trying not to let on how his heart was breaking, and Esca to see and court the trinket girl. 

_Bria_, Marcus reminded himself, and a shadow of the old sadness passed over his heart. He pursed his lips, reluctant to ask but knowing it was the right thing to do.

“Did you wish to speak to Bria?”

Esca flinched, as though the words were a physical blow, and looked determinedly to the main gate looming ahead. He scratched his ear, cleared his throat, and then nodded.

“I should,” he said, voice low but determined. When he looked back to Marcus he smiled a weak, hesitant smile. “It will not take long,” he assured. 

“Esca…” Marcus swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “Take as long as you need. I will see to the errands.”

“No!”   


Esca’s refusal seemed to startle him as much as it did Marcus, and he cleared his throat again, his cheeks flushing red. 

“No,” he repeated, quieter. “I will not send you away.”  


Marcus nodded his agreement, though the thought of having to endure Esca’s conversation with the woman he had courted sat like a stone in his gut, and it was with relief that he had to turn his attention to maneuvering his way through the gate and the crowd that always congregated there. 

Once they had passed into the market itself the way became easier, and the two of them followed the well worn path to oven-warmed air and the smell of fresh bread. 

Esca made their usual purchase of a small loaf, easily shared between them, and by the time they reached the stable they often used, their hands were covered in crumbs and they were finishing the last few bites. 

Esca dismounted first, moving with a grace that Marcus would forever envy, and quickly tended to his horse, making sure she had food and water and plenty of fresh straw. Then he helped Marcus dismount, his hand steadying as Marcus waited for the world to right itself and he stretched cautiously. 

His leg and side both ached dully, a testament to how unused he was to being in the saddle for so long, but after a few minutes he was able to stand on his own and reassure Esca with a hand to his shoulder that he was well. 

Still, Esca walked closely by his side as they made their slow way through the market, a warm presence against the cold and a shield against any who would stray too close to Marcus. 

“I am well,” Marcus said softly as they wove through a large group clustered before a stall, smiling as Esca absently placed a hand to the small of his back and guided him around them. 

“I know,” Esca answered, and kept his hand where it was.

Before long, a familiar row of stalls stretched before them, and for the first time Marcus felt the true weight of all that had happened only four months previously. 

The booths which had been shattered were mended, broken wares replaced, and no sign of the disaster which had occurred that day remained. Only Marcus’ memory of the cart racing out of control, and his fear for Esca’s life. 

Esca’s hand tightened on his back, and for a moment the two of them stood frozen as they gazed at the spot where Marcus had nearly died. 

“Come,” Esca finally said, and gently nudged Marcus forward, the both of them unconsciously giving the area a wide berth as they continued. 

“Esca!”

The voice was lilted, filled with surprise and delight, and a familiar head of red hair streaked toward them and quickly engulfed Esca in a fierce hug. 

Marcus was jolted to the side, and for a moment he feared losing his balance, but a strong hand gripped his elbow and kept him steady as Esca cursed.

“_Bria_!” Esca snapped, and just as suddenly as he was embraced, the woman let him go and stepped back, looking only slightly abashed as she tilted her chin up defiantly. 

“Forgive me,” she said to Marcus, though her eyes remained steadily on Esca. “I was overcome when I saw Esca, as it has been far too long since last I laid eyes on him.”

“Of course,” Marcus murmured, and struggled not to squirm at the sudden tension between them. 

“Bria,” Esca said again, softer this time, and squeezed Marcus’ elbow before reluctantly letting him go. 

“I will be at the leather worker’s booth,” Marcus said, and waited for Esca’s nod before he turned away, giving the two of them as much privacy as could be had in an open market. 

The leather worker, Drust, owned the stall next to Bria’s, and Marcus had come to know the man well over the summer. He was a fair skinned Briton with blonde hair and slight frame, his fingers long and callused from working his trade. They had often spoken of inconsequential things as Esca flirted, and many times Marcus had been treated to a commiserating look as he whiled away the time. 

Despite their familiarity, he was still unprepared for the startled cry that greeted him as he made his way over. 

“My friend!” Drust called in accented Latin, reaching across his booth to clasp Marcus‘ arm in a tight grip. “I had never thought to see you again in this life!”

“Hello,” Marcus greeted, smiling despite himself. “It is good to see you again, as well.”

“You are well? You look pale,” Drust asked, finally releasing his hold on Marcus’ arm to take a step back and look him over critically. “You have lost much weight.”

“I am well,” Marcus assured, trying not to hunch his shoulders self-consciously. He knew he had lost weight and muscle, but did everyone have to comment on it? The Gods knew Esca was trying to feed him every chance he had.

“Good,” Drust finally said, and then he turned his attention to over Marcus’ shoulder, and something about his expression had Marcus turning as well, half-fearing what he would see. 

Esca and Bria were standing in front of her booth, heads bent closely together as they had done many times before. Only now, rather than smiles and fluttering lashes, both of their faces were tense. Esca’s scowl was fixed firmly in place, and he kept shaking his head at whatever Bria was saying.

He looked so very unhappy.

Bria’s voice raised suddenly, not enough for Marcus to make out the words against the noise of the crowd, but enough for him to know she was upset, and her arms rose to cross tightly around her chest. 

Marcus finally turned his back, feeling miserable and guilty. This was what Esca was giving up for him, and there would be no going back. 

“Sometimes, the heart wants what it cannot have,” Drust said sadly, breaking into his thoughts as he shook his head and continued to watch. 

“I - It is not my place,” Marcus murmured, and tried to focus instead on the leather before him, picking out the pieces Esca would want. He doubted the two of them would make their way to this section of the market again anytime soon. 

Once he had completed his purchase, with Drust giving him a commiserating grimace, he finally turned and focused on what was happening behind him. 

Esca and Bria were still speaking, her mouth a thin, hard line at whatever Esca was saying. Stealing himself for the inevitable, Marcus made his way slowly over to them.

“… and there is nothing more, Bria,” Esca was saying, and though his tone was firm, it was also gentle.   


Bria looked over Esca’s shoulder at Marcus’ approach and her expression turned more sorrowful and hurt than angry. She held Marcus’ gaze for a moment as he moved to stand beside Esca, placing a hand to the small of his back to announce his presence. 

“I understand,” she said softly. 

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Marcus said, and forced himself not to flinch at the way both of them turned their attention to him. “Esca, I am going to see about our other purchases. Should I -”

“No,” Esca said, still with that same firm gentleness he had used with Bria. “I am done here.” 

He looked at Bria for a moment more, but whatever needed to be said between them had been said, and she nodded once to him before deliberately turning her back and moving behind her booth, putting distance between them. 

Esca let out a great sigh, and his shoulders slumped as he turned his full attention back to Marcus.   


His face was pale, though calm, and he smiled as he tugged gently at Marcus’ arm to lead him toward the opposite side of the market. 

“You are well?” Marcus asked, and Esca nodded. 

“I will tell you once we are away,” Esca finally said, and Marcus knew to leave him be until he was ready to speak. 

It did not take them long to finish their errands, purchasing the oil and wine, and soon they were making their way back to the main gate, their horses loaded with their acquisitions. 

They stopped briefly for another loaf of bread to share between them on the road, and then the noise and chaos of the market was behind them. 

Esca’s posture was relaxed, though he was diligent as always on the road, his sharp eyes taking in everything and everyone they passed, and it was only when it was once again the two of them alone that he spoke. 

“Bria was… upset,” he finally said and Marcus had to stifle the urge to snort at the understatement. 

“So I had gathered,” he said mildly. 

Esca’s lips quirked in a small smile.   


“She wanted to know if I had found someone else, and I told her truthfully that I had, though I did not mention your name. I told her that I had loved this person for a very long time, but that I feared my love was not reciprocated, and that… that I held great affection for her, but my heart belonged to them. Completely.”

Marcus winced slightly at that, understanding now the look she had cast him before they left. 

“I am rather amazed she did not hit you,” Marcus finally said when Esca did not elaborate, and Esca grimaced. 

“So am I,” he agreed. Then he let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I did not wish to hurt her, but… it was the right thing to do. I cared for her, but I could never have loved her as she deserves. I can only hope she finds someone who will make her as happy as you make me.”

Marcus could not think of what to say to that, for all the words that came to him seemed inadequate, so he reached out instead and entwined his fingers with Esca’s for a moment. 

“I will always try to be worthy,” he finally said, and Esca squeezed his fingers tightly before letting him go. 

They spoke then of other things, planning their trip to Uncle Aquila’s for Saturnalia, and Esca teasing Marcus about his love for his uncles’ baths. Though the air was just as chilled as it had been that morning, warmth seemed to settle in their bones, and the future stretched out before them. 


	7. Chapter 7

They married shortly after Beltane, just the two of them by the side of the stream which ran through their land, the world turned newly green around them as they murmured promises to each other in the late afternoon‘s waning light.

It was a simple ceremony, not meant for any but them; a merging of British and Roman custom, as their lives had become. Esca tied their hands together with the remains of his old grey tunic, worn soft and dull with age and little more than frayed tatters. It was the tunic he had worn when he met Marcus for the first time and threw his father’s dagger at his feet.   


“I shall love you as warmly as the sun in summer, as purely as the snow in winter, and as constant as the changing of the seasons,” Esca said as he finished winding the cloth, voice low and thick with emotion. “My life in your hands, bound together for always.”  


Marcus had to take a deep breath before he could speak, and even then his voice wobbled and broke as he pushed the words out through dry lips. He had struggled to find a way to express what Esca meant to him, none of the words or phrases that were traditional feeling as though they could do his heart justice. When he woke that morning, however, the words had settled easily into his mind with a rightness that had filled his whole being. 

“I shall love you as the ocean loves the salt,“ he whispered. For without you, there is no me.”

They pressed their foreheads together, breathing in the chilled air tinted with the smell of new growth, before Marcus drew back enough to place a kiss to Esca’s lips, chaste despite it being only the two of them. Their hands were very warm where they clung to each other beneath the binding.  


“For forever and a day,” Esca whispered, and kissed him again.

***

There was no party, no guests to tend to or offer them congratulations. They were a world unto themselves, safe from condemnation or judgment.   


After the ceremony, once Esca had released their bound hands and they had drunk from a cup of un-watered wine, they returned to the house, arm in arm, smiling until their cheeks ached. They had gone about their morning as was their usual, feeding the animals and tending the horses, but this night was for them.

The sun was setting slowly, casting the world in shades of yellow and orange, and they had already laid out their dinner. Honey bread, cheese, dried meat and apples from the first harvest of their little grove. 

Neither had had much appetite before the ceremony, so they set upon the food ravenously. They fed each other with sticky fingers, licking crumbs from the corners of each others‘ mouths and laughing at the mess they were making. 

“The workers come in a few days to start on the baths,” Marcus murmured against Esca’s lips. “I cannot wait to share a long soak with you.”

Esca laughed at him and gently bumped their shoulders together.

The new bathhouse was a Saturnalia gift from Uncle Aquila, one which Marcus had protested as too extravagant until Esca had gently pulled him aside and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to allow his uncle to give them this gift.

“He is getting older, Marcus, and he worries. He knows the cold is hard for you, and he wants to make certain you are taken care of, even if he is not there to help,” Esca explained softly. “You are his only family, and he wishes you to be well.”

Marcus had accepted the gift after that, giving his uncle a long embrace as he murmured his thanks over and over again, until Uncle Aquila had laughingly pushed him away and told him to go and be about his “young man business.” 

The fact he had added a wink to the command had Marcus certain his uncle was aware of his and Esca’s relationship, and he had felt both relieved and embarrassed by the approval. 

Now, with the frigid cold of winter a fading memory and the ground no longer frozen, work on the baths would start soon. Marcus was looking forward to having a proper facility to bathe in, and extra warmth in the winter to sooth the aches and pains he had acquired through the years. 

But until the workers arrived, it was just the two of them, and Marcus had only one desire for that night. 

“Esca,” Marcus whispered, placing a long, sucking kiss to Esca’s neck. “Take me to bed.”

Esca let out a shuddering moan and his hand clenched tight around Marcus’ arm. 

“Whatever you desire,” he agreed, and reluctantly pulled himself away from Marcus’ mouth to lead them to the bedchamber.

Darkness had not completely set yet, and Marcus lit the lamp on their bedside table as Esca retrieved the small jar of lavender infused oil they kept under the bed. Then they stripped each other with long practiced ease, their hands lingering and caressing as they pressed kisses to newly exposed skin.

The shutters were open to allow the gentle breeze to clear out the winter staleness, and their bedding had been washed the day before, smelling of the herbs which infused the soap Esca made in the summer. 

Everything was fresh and ready for them, for the new stage of their lives. 

Marcus laid down first and watched as Esca settled beside him, positioning himself in such a way that Marcus knew he intended to have Marcus breach him that night. 

“No,” Marcus said, softly but firmly, and closed his hand around Esca’s holding the jar. “I want - tonight I want to feel you. In me.”

They had not done that yet. Although they had discussed it, and even gone so far as to have Esca use his fingers on Marcus, there had always been an excuse or a reason for him to withdraw and complete Marcus with his hand or mouth. 

Marcus would not allow that this night. 

Esca stared into his eyes for a long moment, his face serious and slightly troubled as he took in Marcus’ expression.

“You are certain?” he asked at last.

“I love you,” Marcus whispered in answer. “With all that I am, all that I have. Of course I am certain.”

Esca hesitated a moment longer, than nodded, slowly. 

“It will probably be best if you are on your side,” he finally said, and moved so he lay with his chest pressed tightly to Marcus‘ back. 

They wiggled and shifted around until they were both comfortable, Marcus’ weight resting on his good side, with his bad leg propped up by a pillow. This also had the added advantage of opening his legs for Esca to move his hand more easily between them. 

“You must tell me if you wish me to stop,” Esca commanded, and Marcus nodded. Then Esca pressed a tender kiss to the back of his neck before moving his fingers, now coated with oil, to Marcus’ opening. “Breathe, my love,” he whispered, and when Marcus took a deep breath in, he breached him with his finger. 

It was not an entirely new feeling, but strange nonetheless, and Marcus forced his muscles to relax as Esca slowly opened him up, preparing him to take Esca into his body. 

“Good,” Esca praised, and added a second finger. “You are doing so well.”

Marcus felt his cheeks grow warm at the praise, but he had learned not to argue when Esca murmured such things to him. 

Slowly his body began to relax, to open up and allow Esca easier access, and when Esca added a third finger, he finally understood why Esca loved taking Marcus into his body. 

Pleasure filled his senses, bright sparks of intense ecstasy that had him gasping and clinging to the bed linens.

“_Esca_!” he groaned, eyes closing despite himself as pleasure pulsed through him. “_Please_,” he begged without shame.

Esca slowly withdrew his fingers, whispered sweet words into Marcus’ ear, gently kissed the back of his neck, and then Marcus felt the blunt pressure of Esca’s cock pressed against his opening. 

“Marcus,” Esca breathed in wonder as he slowly entered Marcus’ body, his tone reverent. 

“_Oh_,” Marcus gasped, awed and a little overwhelmed by all the sensation, the _pleasure/pain_ of being breached, and the knowledge that Esca was inside him, the two of them joined in the most intimate of ways possible. 

They moved slowly, settling into a smooth, gentle rhythm, their bodies sliding against each other easily. Esca kissed him tenderly on the shoulder, the back of his neck, his jaw, his hands gripping and caressing in equal measure, until Marcus cried out and spent into his own hand.

Esca continued to move for a moment longer before he groaned, going still and spilling deep in Marcus’ body, holding him with almost bruising force.

After, they clung to each other, eyelashes wet and cheeks flushed, their breaths stuttering as their hearts calmed and their bodies cooled. 

They cleaned each other with wet rags and then pulled the blankets over themselves and murmured quiet endearments. 

“Husband,” Marcus whispered, his lips barely moving to form the word, as though he could not quite believe he was able to claim that title. 

“Husband,” Esca agreed, and pressed his lips to Marcus’ cheek as sleep slowly overtook them both. 

Outside, the farm settled into the quiet rhythm of night, and the first stars appeared. Two shone particularly bright, their light a gentle blessing to the sons they had left behind, but who had found, and saved, each other.   
  
  
  



End file.
